The Disaster Zone: Awakening
by LMSharp
Summary: Part Four in The Disaster Zone series. "There's a moment in the careers of a lot of soldiers where they sort of wake up. Become more than they ever thought they could be. I used to wonder what your moment would be. Now I wonder why I ever wanted to see the fight that would wake you up." A collection of one-shots set during Mass Effect. Earthborn Sole Survivor Beth Shepard. NO pair.
1. A Reason

I

A Reason

Shepard knelt by Jenkins's corpse. "Stupid, overeager bastard," she muttered. "Too battle-hungry to watch his damn step, and we _knew_ something'd gone down."

The new lieutenant, Alenko, was looking like he was about to lose his lunch. As a biotic, he probably hadn't seen a lot of frontline action. He hadn't been supposed to see it this time, Shepard reflected bitterly. This was a shakedown run on the books—a damn _test drive_ —and even off the record, an uncomplicated pick-up-our-package. That had been the plan. There weren't supposed to be hostile geth. No one was supposed to die. Smoke rose in the distance. Shepard had a nasty feeling it was the colony burning.

"His family was here," Alenko said. "Saw that vid in the briefing, and . . ."

Shepard cut him off. "I know." Alenko flinched at her tone, and Shepard stopped. She _hated_ losing people, but that was no reason to take it out on the one man she still had with her in this shitstorm. Kryik was off doing his Spectre thing all the way across the colony. Anderson had ordered radio silence. They had no backup, no plan for the current situation, no idea what the hell the current situation was. Kaidan had to be able to work with her, or it could be the two of them on the next hill, just like Jenkins.

Shepard breathed in, stood up, and unclenched her fists, and tried again. "We'll send a team down here later to retrieve the body," she said. "Give him a proper service. But right now our priority has to be to secure that beacon. You good to go, Lieutenant?"

"Aye-aye, ma'am."

Shepard gave Alenko the once-over. She didn't know him yet, hadn't ever worked with him before he'd been assigned to the _Normandy_ , but his jaw was set and his hands on his pistol were steady. The nausea seemed to have passed, and he did seem like he could go on. "Move out."

The place was crawling with synthetics. Shepard didn't know what the hell they were doing on Eden Prime. She'd never seen them before. But something somewhere had kicked _some_ kind of hornet's nest hard. Bodies were everywhere. Bodies in and out of uniform. Too many bodies, but somehow, not enough. Not as many as there should have been—not if a unit and a good part of the colony had been attacked. Mostly, the colony was deadly silent, and it set Shepard's nerves on edge.

In a way, it was a relief when they heard someone shooting in the distance. It meant Shepard, Alenko, and Kryik weren't the only organics still alive in the colony. But when Shepard and Kaidan crested the hill and saw their company, the soldier was in a bad way, pinned down by three synthetics, surrounded by the bodies of the fallen. And one guy . . . Shepard hissed as the synthetics impaled him on an enormous steel stake, like this was Transylvania or something.

"What the hell?"

The soldier on the ground fired at the synthetics closing in on her. Female in Sirta Foundation armor. It looked like the woman was wounded, but not beyond saving. Shepard knelt behind a rock, pulled out her rifle, and picked off the synthetics. Three shots, three exploded flashlight heads into their synthetic component parts, and the human woman stood up, looking around for her rescuer. Shepard went up to her.

Mid-twenties, average height and weight, vague nationality, seemed fighting fit, though justifiably shaken. Shepard evaluated the soldier's condition without even thinking about it. Considering the woman's nonregulation armor, she was probably an officer of some sort. She seemed to be taking similar stock of Shepard. Her too-bright brown eyes ran over Shepard's uniform and caught the commander's stripe on the shoulder, as well as her N7 designation, with the standard slight widening of the eyes. "Thanks for your help, commander. I didn't think I was going to make it. Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212. You the one in charge here, ma'am?"

"I'm Commander Shepard. This is Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko," Shepard confirmed. "The Alliance sent us to retrieve the Prothean beacon. Are you wounded, Williams?"

She pulled up a medi-gel application on her omni-tool, scanning Williams's armor for breaches, but Williams waved her off. "A few scrapes and burns. Nothing serious. The others weren't so lucky."

Her eyes wandered off to the guy on the stake, and she started shaking. "Oh, man, we were patrolling the perimeter when the attack hit. We tried to get off a distress call, but they cut off our communications. I've been fighting for my life ever since."

"We received a partial transmission," Shepard said. "It's geth, isn't it?"

"I think so," Williams confirmed.

"The geth haven't been seen outside the Veil in nearly two hundred years," Alenko observed. "Why are they here now?" Shepard shot a look at him. _Why_ was hardly the question to be asking right now. _What are we going to do about them_ was much more important.

"They must have come for the beacon," Williams shrugged. "The dig site is close, just over that rise," she said, pointing. "It might still be there."

The way she was shaking, still looking back at that guy on the stake, the blood on her armor where she'd probably tried to carry some other poor bastard to safety, the whole thing was like looking in a mirror, six years back. Shepard stood where Templeton had stood, coming in to pull Williams's ass out of the disaster zone, and knew Williams was seconds away from totally falling apart unless she gave her something to do fast. They weren't out of the fire yet.

"We could use your help, Williams," she said. "We lost a man back there, and we don't know what we're going into here."

Williams's jaw set then. "Aye-aye, ma'am," she said. "It's time for payback."

She set off, leading the way to the dig site. Shepard looked at the lieutenant, pointed at Williams's back, nodded. _You watch her._

Alenko nodded. He got it. As the three of them pressed on, Alenko helped Shepard watch Williams's back, make sure she didn't break under fire after all she'd been through. For all her experience, Shepard hadn't worked with too many human biotics, but Alenko could do this thing where he could send the geth floating over everyone's heads, a much easier target for their guns. It was nice. Williams wasn't quite so unusual. She wasn't a tech or a biotic, just a damn good soldier, but the Alliance always needed more of those. She kept it together, too. And as the three of them pressed on toward the colony docks, Williams keeping it together got more and more impressive.

Everything was burning. Nothing was the way it should have been. The beacon wasn't at the dig site. And further on, they ran into more bodies impaled on the stakes. Only this time, as they drew near, the stakes shrank back into their bases, and the bodies slid off, now _things_ , hybrid abominations. Tech zombies. They straightened to their feet, and began running toward the team with empty, glowing eyes and gaping mouths.

"Oh, god! They're still alive!"

"What did the geth do to them?"

"Never mind that! Open fire!" Shepard shouted.

The things kept coming and coming, impervious to a shot that would have made the humans they used to be fall to the ground screaming in pain. Only an explosive shot to the torso or a perfect headshot, it looked like, brought down the things. Except the thing was, when they were shot like that, they exploded in electrical bursts. The lieutenant was close to one, and cried out in pain as the charge went through him. Shepard ran over to him. One swipe of her omni-tool brought back the medi-gel application she'd almost used on Williams. She applied it to the burn, and the gel went to work, repairing the damage.

There were only two survivors at the research station where the archaeologists had been living, and right after that, Nihlus, who had been giving Shepard regular updates on his status over the radio, went silent, and Shepard just knew they'd found a whole new level of _bad._

They continued on once the research station had been secured, toward a dock Nihlus had mentioned. And then, on the horizon, leaving the planet, they saw a ship, massive. The one that had been visible on the partial transmission from the 212 earlier. It was shaped like an enormous black hand, or a squid, trailing crackling red energy. It rocketed up, and away from the burning buildings of the colony, up ahead. Watching it, the hair on the back of Shepard's neck stood up inside her helmet, and she shuddered. It was like someone was walking over her grave.

"Whatever that ship left behind it can't be good," Shepard murmured. "Let's keep moving."

There were just four survivors on the docks among the geth rear guard and the human corpses. And one turian corpse. One of the survivors had been hiding behind the crates and had witnessed Nihlus's murder by another turian, one called Saren. One of the surviving scientists back at the research station had mentioned a turian, but Shepard had discounted his statement because he'd referred to the turian arriving before Nihlus could have possibly arrived, and the scientist in question had been more than a little unsettled by the attack. But now Shepard realized she'd been informed there'd been another turian in play.

The dock worker, Powell, told them the other turian, Saren, had taken the cargo train to the other docking platform. As Shepard looked at the geography of it, she realized the ship they'd seen before had to have left from the other platform.

"Let's move," she said. "Double-time."

That was how they found the charges. Shepard's bad feeling had been right on. The turian, Saren, had set the geth at the rear to blow up the docks. When she saw the first charge, with the timer five minutes and counting, she yelled.

"Lieutenant, chief, keep 'em off me! Gotta shut these down or we'll all be blown sky high!"

There were returning shouts of affirmation, but Shepard was already moving. She shut down the last charge with seconds to spare and stood with the others, on the now vacant platform, breathing heavily.

"Commander, look," Williams said.

She pointed to the edge of the dock, where a tall, unmistakably Prothean artifact stood, glowing green. "It's the beacon," she said. "But it wasn't doing anything like that at the dig site . . ."

"It's been activated," Shepard said. "Don't—"

She was already getting the idea that Alenko was too smart, too curious for his own damn good. He kept asking the _why_ and _how_ questions, when those were better off waiting until they'd got out alive. Now he proved her right about him again by stepping just a centimeter too close to the beacon. He gasped, tried to cry out. Some energy field from the thing started to lift him off his feet.

The only thing that flashed through Shepard's mind then was _she was not losing anybody else_. She tackled him, but then she was in the field, and she couldn't get free, and a vast, alien presence drove into her mind like red hot poker.

And then it was a blur of images. Protheans screaming, blood spurting, buildings toppling, planets exploding into dust. Everything, everything, falling to fire and crumbling to ash. An overwhelming pain, loss, anger flooded every part of Beth Shepard's mind. The suffering of an entire species, an entire civilization, and one black ship, like the one she'd just seen, against a dying star.

It was too much. Beth blacked out.

* * *

When she came to, she was back on the _Normandy_ , with Doc Chakwas leaning over her and Alenko looking like he was afraid he'd killed her, until she told him that aside from a splitting headache, she was fine. Then it was all debriefs and explanations and what-the-hell-do-we-do-nows, and at last a decision to report what had happened to the Council on the Citadel. It was that big.

The colony on Eden Prime had been almost completely destroyed. So had the beacon, after whatever vision it had transferred directly into Shepard's brain. Apparently it had been damaged, anyway, damaged either by Saren, who Anderson thought must have activated it and used it first, and attempted to blow up the port so no one else would be able to access the information it contained, or already damaged when it had been unearthed at the dig site. Anderson thought that the damage might account for the disjointed quality of the information Shepard had received. Shepard thought it was probably because she wasn't a freaking Prothean.

Saren was another Spectre, like Nihlus. Anderson seemed to know of him. Hate him, too. He seemed incredibly eager to report Saren's rogue alliance with the geth, the destruction of Eden Prime. Not just because it was the right thing to do. Like it was personal, somehow. He didn't tell Shepard about it, and Shepard didn't ask. It was personal for her. More personal than anything had been in years. Anderson left Shepard in the med bay. For a while, even though Doc Chakwas had cleared her, Shepard stayed, staring at the wall.

"What do you fight for, Commander Shepard?" Nihlus had asked, just yesterday, in what had to be the last conversation he'd had before his death. Shepard hadn't been able to give him an answer. If he'd asked now, she thought she would be able to answer.

Eden Prime. What Saren and the geth had done to the colony down there set her angry on a deep, deep level. Angrier than she'd ever been in her life. Shepard had seen a lot of action. A lot of suffering. But she'd never seen anything like what the geth had done to the people down there. They hadn't killed them. Hadn't raped or enslaved them, where there was a chance of freedom, of healing. No, the geth had _changed_ those colonists, those soldiers, turned them into mindless, monstrous tech zombies. Nonhumans. Antihumans. Abominations. Hacking people, mutilating corpses, _using_ corpses as weapons against their former friends. Not only was it unnecessary, it was dirty, _wrong_ , on the most basic level. Jenkins's family had been down there. Shepard wondered if one of the things down there had once been Jenkins's mom, or one of his siblings. She stopped that train of thought cold. That was a quick way to go the hell to pieces if she'd ever seen one. But fighting against the things that could do that to people? That was more of a reason to destroy something than Beth Shepard had ever had in her life.

But there was more to it, even. That vision, that freaking _trip_ that had burned through Shepard's brain. Shepard didn't know what the hell it was about, but if Saren wanted to know about _it_ , Shepard suspected this could be bigger than a rogue Spectre and geth beyond the Veil, even. Whatever the hell she'd seen was relevant to what Saren was doing, and that scared Shepard out of her mind. She couldn't piece together a single image's significance from her vision, except that ship, a ship just like the one she'd seen over Eden Prime. Saren's ship. In the vision, it was pretty damn clear what the ships like that had meant, even if nothing else made any sense at all.

Slaughter.

Death.

Extinction.

The feeling curled in Shepard's stomach like a six-foot rattlesnake, bloated, heavy, hard, and deadly poisonous. It was urgent she stop Saren from doing whatever he meant to do with the information in that beacon, information he'd killed a good portion of an entire colony to get. Shepard slid off the medical table, pinned her hair back up, and strode out of the med bay.

Williams was sitting alone at a table in the mess, tracing designs on the surface with a fingertip. Her eyes were glassy, her mouth slightly open. She was still back on Eden Prime. Shepard knew the signs. Anderson was Anderson, but no one else had even caused a blip on Shepard's ladar since Akuze. She hadn't let them. _Never again_ , she'd promised herself after Akuze, and she'd kept that promise. But promise or no promise, something in her told her that if she ignored Williams now, it would be unforgivable. She wouldn't be able to live with herself.

Sweeps had confirmed. Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was the sole survivor of the Alliance 212.

Beth sat down across from her. "It's like you've been spaced, isn't it?" she said without prelude. "Like you're lost, suffocating back there, watching them die around you again, and again, and again."

Williams sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, clenched her fists.

"Say it, Williams," Beth ordered her.

"They're all gone," Williams whispered. "Dead. My entire unit . . . the whole 212 . . ."

"Yes. They are. Williams. Look at me."

Williams turned her haunted face up to Beth. Her jaw was clenched. Sheer will kept her from shattering. Beth respected that. "I'm probably the only one in the fleet that can say I know exactly what you're going through," she said. "It was five years ago for me. I was about your age. Operations chief. And like the 212, the 179 had no warning before the attack, no chance to call for help. And just like you, I was left alone in the end, with all my unit, all my friends, dead around me, wondering why the hell I'd survived when they didn't."

"I wouldn't have. If you hadn't been there—" Williams began.

Shepard cut her off. Had to stop that kind of thinking before it had a chance to take root. "Maybe not, but you did, and now you're here, alive, so listen to me," she said. "What you're feeling right now will paralyze you if you let it. But you _can't let it_. Thresher maws are one thing, but what we just saw . . . if it's half as bad as I think it is, the Alliance will need you at the top of your game. _I'll_ need you. You and Alenko are the only other military witnesses we have, and I'll need you to help me fight the enemy."

"Thresher maws . . ." Williams blinked. "Akuze. That was you? How did you . . . ? Commander, they're all _gone_. They were good people, ma'am. Why? Why them and not me?"

Beth dropped her gaze. "I asked myself that question every day for six months, Williams. I still don't know. I was up when the attack hit. Most of them weren't, but we had some damn quick risers in the 179. Augustus, we always said he slept with one eye open and his finger on the trigger. There's no reason in it. It was luck. Fortunes of war. Fate. Hell, God, maybe. Don't know if He was saving or punishing me." She grimaced. "Maybe my gun just didn't overheat, or I was the only one anal enough to carry around my radio everywhere, even when we thought we were safe. Orwell and Granger heard me. No one else did. And Orwell and Granger . . . they didn't make it. For whatever reason, though, I'm here, and they're not. _You're_ here, and _they're_ not."

Williams closed her eyes, gripped the table so hard the metal creaked and her knuckles turned white as bone. Two tears squeezed out from under her eyelashes and ran down her face, but no more. She just sat there, silent, fighting the battle to keep herself from breaking, and winning.

Beth sat with her until the shaking had slowed, and stopped, and Williams had opened her eyes again. This time, she saw Beth and the mess, not Eden Prime. "Thanks for saving me, ma'am," she said. "I'm glad you're here. What we saw—the Alliance will need you most of all."

"You and Alenko were the ones that dragged my ass back to the ship," Beth said. "Thank _you_."

"The LT did most of the dragging. Though carrying that monster rifle of yours was no picnic. That thing's as big as you are, ma'am, and it weighs a _ton_." She forced a smile.

Shepard smiled back, encouraging the effort. And if her smile was a little forced too, Williams was too distracted to notice. "Packs a hell of a punch, though. Carry on, Williams." She stood, clapped Williams on the back.

"Aye-aye, ma'am."

"Let's take this bastard down."

* * *

 **TRAILER FOR** _ **GETH ATTACK!**_ **(2183), THE SEVENTH VID WITH A CHARACTER BASED ON COMMANDER BETH SHEPARD (PLAYED BY GRACE WILSON)**

Black screen. A gruff, deep, male voice yells:

 **GETH ATTACK!**

And the words appear in big, white caps across the screen. A strong drumbeat and an electric guitar start up. A dark-haired, human woman in thick, blood-red armor, with a bloody bandage tied around one massive bicep, throws a geth ( _or a fairly good prop of one_ ) over her shoulder to the torn-up, dirty ground, and shoots it in the face with her shotgun. Behind her, there is a shower of blood as another human is impaled on a spike encircled with electrodes. More geth come up on the woman, surrounding her, beeping and clicking menacingly.

 **GUNNERY CHIEF ASHLEY WILLIAMS: You want more? Come on!**

Away in the colony proper, men, women, and children scream as geth come swarming over a hill. Drones are buzzing through the air, firing down at the scene below. A destroyer sets a house ablaze. A woman throws a vase at its head but can do little else, as another geth blocks the door. Her child comes to cling to her hand, watching the flames with large, terrified eyes. The woman throws herself at the geth at the door. She's gunned down. Blood spurts, and her lifeless corpse falls to the cheap prefab floor.

A man in the colony has a shotgun. He aims at one of the drones and shoots it out of the sky. As it falls, he picks it up and hurls it at another with a roar of rage.

Over the hill and back in the field, the smoke is rising. An enormous blonde woman in black armor with a red N7 on it is carrying an equally enormous shotgun. Beside her is a mammoth of a man, with a jaw like granite and dark curls down to his shoulders, wreathed in a ( _obviously computer-generated_ ) biotic blaze.

 **LIEUTENANT KAIDAN ALENKO: They're burning the colony!**

 **COMMANDER BETH SHEPARD: Come on!**

The guitar goes crazy, riffing as a selection of increasingly violent, awesome scenes flash on the screen. WILLIAMS throws a grenade at a mob of geth, and charges through the flying mechanical parts toward more. ALENKO leaps off a small cliff, and send geth floating biotically all around him, as SHEPARD shoots them out of the sky. Just as WILLIAMS looks like she might be overcome, SHEPARD and ALENKO charge in, sending geth flying left and right, machine oil spilling all over them. COMMANDER SHEPARD throws one geth into another.

Against the background of the burning colony of Eden Prime, the faces of SHEPARD, ALENKO, and WILLIAMS are superimposed as the music builds to a crescendo. They look very heroic and determined. Then the audience sees a geth prime, full length, raising its cannon to chest height. There is a close up of the barrel, pointed straight at the audience. The geth fires, and the screen goes black.

 **3.3.2183**

* * *

 **A/N:** Welcome to _Awakening_ , the fourth part of my series The Disaster Zone, and the first part to be set during the Mass Effect trilogy. If you're new, welcome! If you're interested, check out the prequels on my profile: _Nobody's Child_ , _Little Beth_ , and _Soldier._ They cover Beth Shepard's childhood in foster care, her time with the Tenth Street Reds, and her early military career, including the tragedy at Akuze.

If you've been following me for a while, welcome back! Obviously the characters and events here will be much more familiar than events in the prequels, and by now you know Beth pretty well too. I hope you continue to enjoy her journey. _Awakening_ will continue on in the same style as the other entries in the series. This is not a novelization any more than the earlier stories were, but rather a succession of chronological one-shots, more concerned with Beth's character development and her relationships with the universe and people around her than with the action of a game you've probably all played many times. There will occasionally be "special features," such as the trailer above of the horrendously BAD action movie made for the krogan in 2183 in my head-canon, and more.

I am actually writing a more action-oriented novelization, not of _Mass Effect_ but of _Mass Effect 2_. _Sometimes Grace_ will be posted at first concurrently with and then after the next entry in this series, _The Disaster Zone: Resurrection_. After _Resurrection_ concludes, I will not begin posting the sixth part of the Disaster Zone until _Sometimes Grace_ has also concluded, so this series will be on hiatus for several months. But don't worry about that just yet. You've got several more weeks of uninterrupted Disaster Zone updates headed your way—and both _Awakening_ and _Resurrection_ are ten chapters long, as opposed to parts One through Three's seven chapters.

As ever, reviews are very welcome (and I respond to every one!) but not required.

Yours,

LMSharp


	2. Command

II

Command

". . . we're freeing nice doctors from blackmail, breaking up smuggling rings and saving C-Sec snitches, stopping proselytizing on the Presidium, uncovering gang corruption, making Alliances with _three_ different species to take Saren down. Seems like we're doing everything except what we need to be doing! Still can't convince the damn Council. I hate politicians! Freaking image-obsessed, with their pressed suits and manicured hands so the blood doesn't show on the vids, always thinking how to . . . screw it. Screw it. I don't need their damn backup. I'll do their freaking dirty work. Somebody has to take Saren down."

Kaidan watched Shepard pacing up and down the dock. In a minute she would have to board the _Normandy_ again, and then she'd have to be professional for who the hell knew how long, but for now, her new lieutenant let her vent. But he kept his cool. He was good at that, she was finding. "Udina did the best he could to get us backup. He still might come through," he told her.

"Udina. Don't even get me started on Udina. 'Remember you were a human long before you became a Spectre,' just as if Saren and the geth aren't a threat to everyone in the sky. Not to mention the Reapers, _whatever_ the hell they really are. God, I don't even want to _think_ about how screwed we are if Saren and this Benezia person manage to bring back the things that wiped out the Protheans! But what he did to Anderson!"

Kaidan didn't flinch as she rounded on him. He stayed right where he was, up against the _Normandy_ 's airlock, arms folded, watching her until she got control of herself again. "You've worked with him a long time, haven't you?"

"Five years. He's a good man. He deserves better than this. Forced retirement? It's all shit."

"You're pissed. I get that," Kaidan said. "We're in way over our head here. We need help, and they're not going to give it to us, and the guy that's supposed to be fighting for us screwed your friend. Fine. But you can't let it affect you like this, Commander."

"I know. I know," Shepard said. She stopped pacing. "My first command," she said, looking up at Kaidan and smiling suddenly. "The first command that's really mine, and I get saddled with _this_."

"Hell of a way to start out, ma'am, but we're all behind you. You can do this. We'll take Saren down. You're a Spectre, now. I mean, not much can get in your way."

Shepard wrinkled her nose. "That's certainly what Wrex and Vakarian think. Might be a bit of a job, reining in those two."

"Off the record, what do you think of them all? Tali, too. How do you see them fitting into our operations?"

Shepard frowned. "You're not going to have a problem working with other species, are you, Lieutenant?" she asked. A few people on the crew seemed a little uncomfortable with the aliens she'd recruited, which was fine. They could squirm all they liked, so long as they dealt and minded their manners, but Kaidan would be one of her ground squad. Shepard needed him to be able to work with nonhumans. Especially since Ashley, another one of her ground squad, was looking like she'd be one of the squirmers.

But Kaidan set her mind at rest at once. "No, ma'am. The geth aren't just a threat to humans. They're a threat to organics everywhere. I think it's smart to get outside help on this one."

Shepard nodded. "I'm glad to see we're in agreement," she said. She paused, but Kaidan was still waiting for an answer to his initial question. Not _why aliens_ , after all, but why _these_ aliens? And more importantly, _how_ these aliens? Shepard went still. It wasn't the type of question a soldier asked his commanding officer, or the type of question a good commanding officer answered. To do so would be to include Kaidan in her decision-making process, to put him on a level with her. She needed to work with her crew, but she wasn't looking for buddies. _Never again_.

Kaidan caught her hesitation. "Just let me know if I'm out of line, Commander," he told her.

Shepard shook her head. "You were, a little," she admitted. "It's not appropriate for me to discuss the crew with you in that capacity, Lieutenant. But it wasn't appropriate for me to lose control just now, either, to permit you to stay here to see that. I needed to lose it for a minute, but I shouldn't have let you in on it. I'm sorry."

Kaidan stood up straight. "I understand," he said. "But Commander, you're only human. You don't have to do this alone. I want you to know I'm here—if you need me. All of us are."

Shepard looked at him. _Yes_ , she thought, _you're here, until you're not_. She was looking at Granger, at Wright, at Ashton again, only this time they wouldn't go down in a thresher maw attack. This time they'd go down like Jenkins, like Nihlus. She smiled tightly. "I know, Kaidan," she said. "I appreciate your dedication."

He knew that was officer bullshit, but he took it anyway. "I know what we're up against," he told her, "It's a lot. But I trust you. You'll get us out of this."

He met her gaze, and from him, it wasn't bullshit. Kaidan Alenko really did think she could handle this. Strangely, Shepard did not find this comforting. "Let's hope so," she sighed. "For all our sakes. Come on. Let's get this show on the road."


	3. Allegiance

III

Allegiance

Shepard liked keeping the teams small so there was always a backup squad on the ship and maybe even one behind, even on the Citadel, where there wasn't a huge likelihood that they'd be fighting a battle for their lives anytime soon. Then again, there'd been a few shootouts last time. Still, she'd taken Fist down, and she didn't intend on going anywhere rough this time. Tali was with her, because it was a good opportunity to get the girl off the ship and out and about without taking her into any hot zones. Vakarian, too, because he knew the lay of the land down here better than any of the others and said he could probably get her some good deals at the suppliers.

Shepard still hadn't quite worked Vakarian out. Kaidan and Ashley were Alliance. They were assigned to the _Normandy_ , good soldiers and loyal members of the team, but ultimately paid to serve with Shepard. Wrex had joined up because it had made sense at the time to get his help going after Fist, and then he'd stayed on because he was bored. Like a lot of krogan, he was looking for a fight, and Shepard had had enough of a fight on her hands she knew it'd be a bad idea to turn him away. The old warlord was a damned juggernaut. He'd been fighting for centuries, and as krogan went, he was pretty reasonable. Not a bad guy. Tali had an interest in learning more about the geth, and Liara an interest in learning more about the Protheans, and both of them needed protection besides, though Tali probably wouldn't admit it.

Vakarian, though, would've left his _job_ to help her take down Saren. In the end she hadn't let him—one of her first uses of her new Spectre authority had been to persuade Executor Pallin to assign Vakarian as a special consultant to their mission, based on his investigative experience on Saren's case. Now he had something waiting for him when they were finished, but Shepard knew Garrus wouldn't have cared. He would've bet everything on Shepard being able to help him close a case that C-Sec wouldn't let him close. It was like he saw Saren as an affront to the entire Turian Hierarchy or something, like it'd be a personal failing if he let him go. It was dedication like Shepard hadn't ever seen before. Or obsession.

Shepard shook her head, and Garrus saw the movement and looked at her sideways. She dismissed the unspoken question with a gesture. Harkin had been an ass, but he hadn't been wrong when she'd asked about Garrus a couple weeks ago. Vakarian was a damn hothead. Impatient, overzealous, and he needed to learn a thing or six about due process and protocol and _why_ they existed. He also had shown he had balls of steel when he'd joined up. It took a hell of a lot of courage to do what he'd done, a hell of a lot of trust in her ability that she wasn't sure she'd earned. He had some sort of awe for the Spectres. And he watched her. All the time. Shepard looked out the corner of her eye, and yep, he was still watching. It was like he was taking notes. Damn unnerving sometimes. She'd been a soldier her entire adult life, an officer for almost five years, but no one had ever asked her to teach or confused her with a mentor. Most humans knew she'd be crap at it. Garrus, and to a lesser extent Tali and Liara, hadn't seemed to pick up on that, though.

Still, she'd determined to do her best. She didn't know about Liara yet and didn't like a kid as young as Tali in the field, but Wrex was a real warrior, Ash was dependable, and Kaidan was solid with the clearest head on the squad. But as far as versatility, combat instinct, and raw potential went, Shepard thought Garrus Vakarian might be the best damn man she had. It'd be a crime for all that potential to go to waste, so since he'd decided to look to her, she'd decided to do her best for him. His head was on straight and his heart was in the right place, to start, which was more than could be said for a lot of soldiers. Then, as a turian, he was the only alien on the _Normandy_ with military training. She'd found him smart, adaptable, and ready to learn, and even though she'd chewed him out for taking that shot in Doctor Michel's office and would do so again, privately she thought it had been one of the most beautiful shots she'd seen in her life, and she'd seen him make others since.

They turned into the markets, and Garrus spoke up. "Here, let me talk to Expat for you. Might be a license we can grab for the outfitters in the hold."

"More expensive to requisition from the _Normandy_ ," Shepard remarked. "If you see something better than we've got and we can afford it, figure out a way to negotiate. We need the best equipment we can find."

"Shepard?" A voice came from the shadows, to the right. Shepard grimaced, and turned, but it wasn't that moron, Verner, again. Instead, a small, thin man with a brown, weathered, hard-looking face was standing up from where he'd been leaning against a wall. His narrow lips widened in an unpleasant smirk. "Little Beth! They told me it was you, but I didn't believe it. Little Beth, all grown up and turned into a soldier."

"Who is this guy, Shepard?" Vakarian wanted to know. His hand lingered near his pistol. He was ready for action if there was a threat.

Beth held up a hand. "It's alright, Garrus, Tali." _I think_ , she added in her head. "What do you want, Finch?" she asked.

Finch's grin widened. "What do you know? First human Spectre remembers her old pals from the gutter. You know, none of the vids mention you ran with the Tenth Street Reds when they're talking about you."

"It's not a secret. Just uninteresting," Beth said. "And it's behind me now, anyway."

Finch's face hardened. "That's what I've heard. Relax, Little Beth. We're not trying to make any trouble for you. We just want a favor, for old times' sake. One of the Reds, Curt Weisman, got picked up by turians. We'd like you to talk to the turian guard in the bar and get Curt out."

Beth folded her arms. She didn't know Weisman, but she knew Finch. He'd been a forger, back in the day, and a low-level hitter. Nasty, though. One of Nash's. And Shepard had been forwarded some stuff on the Reds from Alliance command in the past four years or so, in the event of something like this. The Reds weren't what they'd used to be.

"Yeah, I don't think so, Finch."

"Suit yourself, Little Beth. If you change your mind, he's over in Chora's Den. Take care of this, and you'll never see me again."

Beth bristled. "The implication being that if I don't, I might. Is that how it is?"

Finch smirked. "Take it how you like. But Little Beth, you might be all grown up and different now, but you really don't want the Reds as your enemies."

He slouched off into the shadows.

"What was that, Shepard?" Tali asked.

"Trouble," Beth answered her. "One way or another, I have to take care of this. Come on."

Chora's Den was a dive. Shepard had spent enough time here the last time on the Citadel. She'd hoped not to come back. The place smelled like liquor, various human and alien bodily fluids, and there were idiots drooling over mostly naked women every which way. Many asari _liked_ being ogled, especially when they were young, but it still felt wrong to Shepard's street brain. She'd spent years trying to avoid ending up exactly where those girls shaking their blue asses were, or someplace very similar.

Vakarian nodded at a turian near the back. The guy wasn't distinctive in any way, ogling the asari like the rest, but Garrus said, "He's off-duty, but he's C-Sec. His name is Naxus. He does some prison duty. Probably the guard your friend mentioned."

"Finch is _not_ my friend," Beth muttered. But nevertheless, she went up to the guard, Naxus. He didn't look too happy to be distracted from the stripper, but he focused on Vakarian.

"Garrus? What are you doing here? Thought you quit to—" then he saw Shepard. "Ah. Spectre. What can I do for you?"

Beth got straight to the point. "You got a human in custody by the name of Curt Weisman?"

It was hard to tell with turians, but Shepard thought he scowled. "Yeah. We're keeping that xenophobe locked up tight."

Shepard pinched her lips together. Xenophobe. Yeah, according to the intel, Nash had taken the Reds in that direction. He'd always hated aliens. And he'd always hated her. Sending Finch for her now, she could practically feel Nash's huge, hammy hand on her shoulder, shoving her forward, daring her to prove herself a real Red, except his warped version of what a Red should be. "What'd he do?" she asked.

"The human acknowledged his affiliation with several antialien organizations," Naxus reported promptly. "His crime specifically targeted turians as a species. It was a hate crime, and will be treated as such at his sentencing."

Vakarian's laser-focused blue eyes were drilling a hole into the back of Beth's skull. She didn't look at him. "Fine," she told Naxus. "But you've got trouble. Weisman has friends. They want him out. Watch him."

"Yeah, we knew he had backup," Naxus said. "He was too well equipped for it to be a solo job. Thank you for the information, Spectre. We'll increase the guard on his cell."

"I knew you'd rat us out, Shepard!"

Beth turned. Somehow, it didn't surprise her to find Finch had tailed them here. "Nash always said you weren't really one of us," he sneered. "Now it's payback time. When we're through telling our story, the aliens will all know what the first human Spectre _really_ is."

"And what am I, Finch?" Beth demanded. "A kid from Vancouver that got involved in the gangs to survive? Anyone can find that out if they look. And the Reds were different back then. We didn't specifically target aliens. Lopez never had a problem. Just Nash and dumb bastards like you."

"Lopez is long gone. Nash dusted that weak son of a bitch years back. The Reds are bigger now. Better," Finch bragged. "And I'm one of Nash's top guys."

"That certainly says a lot about the quality of his organization," Beth retorted. "The Reds may be bigger, but they're sure as hell not better."

"We're better off without you, anyway. You and all your soft, alien-loving kind. You used to like that bitch Paxton, didn't you? Her sister? Her brat? They're gone, too."

Beth studied his face. "Gone," she decided, "but not dead, I don't think. Nash may have got Lopez, but you didn't get Stace, did you? She got away. Bet Nash liked that. _You_ wouldn't be anywhere if she'd stuck around, Finch. She was one of the best. Almost as good as me. Too smart to stay with _his_ loser Reds, especially once he killed Lopez. He tried to kill her, I guess. But I think she took the hitters down instead, and still got away, and you never found out where she and her family went."

Finch's hands had clenched, and he'd turned red, then purple as Beth told her story. She grinned. "I'm right, aren't I? Good for her. You mad now, Finch? You going to try to take _me_ down? You couldn't when I was fifteen years old, and you certainly can't now."

"I don't have to take you down, bitch," Finch hissed through gritted teeth. "All I have to do is tell a story. Just a little story. You were a Red once, and that's all I need. I know six guys who'd swear they saw you kill aliens for fun."

Beth stopped laughing. "The hell with that, Finch! I never killed _anyone_ when I ran with the Reds! I made _sure_ I didn't."

Finch just laughed at her. It didn't matter, what was true and what wasn't. He knew it, and so did Beth. It wasn't like the word of a few xenophobic gangbangers meant a lot, even if they were off-Earth, too, now. It was all politics. Image. And Beth was on thin ice already. The Council hadn't wanted to make her a Spectre in the first place. Not after Eden Prime. Not after the destruction of the beacon and Nihlus's death. They'd only made her a Spectre so they could say they'd done something about Saren without actually doing something about Saren, and so Udina wouldn't start a war over the underrepresentation of humans in Citadel Space. The Council certainly didn't like her. They didn't like that she'd proved Saren a traitor. They didn't like that she was pushing the Reapers. Given half an excuse, they'd strip her of her position and her mission, and Saren would keep on doing what he was doing, completely unimpeded.

Everyone was staring at her.

Finch thought he had Little Beth in a corner.

That C-Sec officer, Naxus, waited. He wondered what sort of Spectre she was, wondered if the Council had screwed up as badly as half the galaxy thought, when it set the street kid from Earth above intergalactic law. Beth didn't think he believed Finch, hoped he didn't, but he'd talk about what she did here with this attempted blackmail. And he maybe wondered if she hated aliens like her old buddies.

Tali's visor was turned toward Beth's face. She was probably wondering who this woman was she'd jumped aboard with. She'd been in a hell of a lot of trouble when they'd met, and Beth knew she was all Tali had until she returned to the flotilla, the only person in the galaxy that was going to give a damn and look out for the kid. Maybe she thought she'd fallen in with a bad crowd the day Shepard had picked her up.

Beth could almost envision the notes Vakarian was taking in his head, turian characters on his visor. Who she was and what she'd do, and why he might have been a total idiot to take the gamble that he had, to trust her like he had.

Beth took a deep breath and met Finch's mocking, triumphant stare. "Nash was right about me, Finch," she told him, voice low. "I was never really a Red. And I won't let you twist what I actually was and use it against me. My mission is too important."

She saw the second Finch realized what she was saying, realized what it meant that Little Beth had grown up and become a soldier, a Spectre. Little Beth had never killed anybody. Commander Shepard had killed many, many times. Finch's entire body tensed, like he was going to run, but Beth was a quicker draw now than she'd been fourteen years ago, and she'd been quicker than Finch then. She shot him twice, point-blank. Once in the head, once in the heart.

Beth whirled, and saw him, there, three meters away. A kid about twenty, in Earth-made clothes, eyes wide with horror, and not merely surprise. Finch's backup. She crossed to him in a second, grabbed his collar. "What's your name?"

"V—Vance. Don't hurt me!" he stammered.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Vance. I want you to take a little message to the boss for me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Just don't—"

"Listen. You tell Nash what happened here. You tell him _back the fuck off_. The Reds _don't screw with me_. I'm Alliance. I'm a Spectre. And I don't have time for his pitiful gang of two-bit, xenophobic thugs. Got it? I never want to see his people sniffing around me again. And if I hear anything, _anything_ , that isn't true about me and I even suspect they're behind it? I'm coming for him. You tell him that from Beth Shepard."

"Back off. Got it," the kid repeated, far too quickly. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat. "I'll . . . I'll make sure the boss knows."

Beth let go. "Great. Then you have a nice day." The kid staggered back from her, owl-eyed, turned, and ran.

"Impressive," Naxus remarked from behind her. "Perhaps the first human Spectre will not be a disappointment after all. I'll see a report gets filed and this is taken care of, ma'am."

Shepard swallowed. She stared down at Finch's corpse. His blood was pooling on the filthy floor, picking up grease as it spread outward. Shepard felt cold. "Is this what a Spectre's supposed to be?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she shook her head. "I'll be a disappointment," she murmured.

She stood up straight. "Tali, Garrus, come on. I've had enough of this place."

The turian and the quarian followed her. No one spoke a word until they got to Flux. "Better here," Beth said. "Better drinks. Not as much blood."

The three of them sat around a table, and everyone ordered a stiff drink. Beth wondered briefly if Tali was underage. To hell with it, she decided. She wouldn't let the kid get drunk, and anyway, she wasn't anyone's mother.

Beth sat there for a moment, trying to decide how to tell them that it hadn't been crazy to join her, that she'd do the best she could for them, and that she wasn't how it might have looked back there.

"It was the only place to go," she began finally. "I didn't have a family. I was a ward of the state. Nobody was looking out for me, and the part of town where I lived, all my life? Girls don't—" she broke off. Tali was too still. Garrus's eyes had a bit too much understanding in them. But she couldn't say it, couldn't be that open with a man she didn't know that well and a sheltered kid from the flotilla who'd probably only just learned that such things as prostitutes _existed_. "There weren't that many options," she amended. "I knew the Alliance would get me out, but I had to survive long enough to make it there, and there was only so much I could learn on my own," she continued. "The guy we were talking about, Lopez? He ran the gang back then. Kept things smaller, soft-core, under the radar. The Reds protected me, taught me to fight. I brought in customers for the gambling rings. Fixed the getaway car. Ran tech defense for base and our systems. Hacked a couple of other systems. Only the ones that belonged to assholes, anyway."

She still couldn't look at them. "I know how it might have looked back there. How it might have sounded. But I _swear_ , that's all I did. I worked my ass off staying away from the bigtime stuff so I didn't get a record that would keep me from leaving. The boss now, Nash? He was second-in-command back then. He knew I was being careful, holding back. Hated me for it. But he always kept an eye out for talent, too, and he knew I had it. When word got round to him that I'd become a Spectre, he must've . . . anyway, he won't, now. At least, he better not. I don't think he'll come after me again. He knows his limits. In the last couple years, he got careful around me. Knew I could probably take him in a fair fight."

Beth stared at the drink in her hands, admiring the way the lights flashed off the blue liquid in the glass. She didn't know why it was blue, but at least it had the same kick as the stuff back home. She waited. For what, she wasn't sure. Disappointed accusations, demands for explanations.

But instead, Tali asked, "That man mentioned a woman. Stace Paxton? And her family? Were they important to you?"

Beth blinked. Smiled. "Yeah," she said. "About the only people that were. Stace was Lopez's girl. Top hitter in the Reds, too, back then. She taught me how to fight. How to shoot a gun. She did some terrible things to keep her sister Meg out of the gangs. She never even told me all of it. But even Nash was a little scared of her. She had a kid when I was seventeen. Little girl named Hope. I used to help her with the baby, and she and Meg would help me with the other kids at the home when our foster parents went out. I'm glad they got out. She always hoped they would. I hope they're okay."

"If she was your first teacher, I'm sure she's just fine," Garrus said.

"It's nice to know you had friends," Tali remarked. "That they weren't all like that man. That you weren't always . . ." she trailed off.

"Always?" Shepard prompted.

Tali deflected. "In the flotilla, we are always surrounded by others. Space is limited on the ships. Everyone is like family. Even on the _Normandy_ , there's too much room. People don't know each other as well as they do back home. And you—you're even more isolated than the rest of the crew. I wonder how you manage it."

"Let me get this straight. You're worried I might be lonely?" Beth repeated, incredulous. "Not that I might be a xenophobic, murderous gangbanger? Not that I just gunned down that guy back there?"

"He was threatening you. I assume bad things could have happened if he had followed through," Tali said with a shrug. "I'm surprised you're worried I would think you were a criminal, Shepard. After you saved me from Fist's thugs, and after everything you've done on the Citadel already? Wherever you've been, you've moved on. And you're obviously not a xenophobe."

Shepard looked from Tali to Vakarian. She could swear he looked amused, even _smug_. "Your files are public record," he said in his turn. "And even if they weren't, I was C-Sec. I'm not an idiot. I looked you up before I signed on. I knew all about your life back on Earth from the beginning. You did what you had to, Shepard.

"And all the evidence shows you're not a xenophobe. You could have turned down every 'alien' you've run into since we first met." He ticked them off on his fingers, though with only three on each hand, he had to use both hands. "Me, Wrex, Tali, Dr. T'Soni. You don't really need any of us. None of us are Alliance or on the payroll." His mandibles flared. "You're probably the most tolerant human I've ever met, Shepard, letting all of us tag along."

"Agreed," Tali said, as if that was the end of it. "I don't actually know why we're even talking about it."

"I will admit I am a little surprised you killed Finch, though," Vakarian said. "Not that I don't approve, but so far, uh, it doesn't seem to fit in with your style."

Shepard grimaced. She knew what he was saying. "You mean, where's the rule where I can tell you we do things the _right_ way, but I can kill the idiot that tries to blackmail a Spectre with a C-Sec officer right there as a witness to the attempt? Finch always was a moron."

Vakarian's mandibles twitched. He waited.

"I could've just sent him to do time with his buddy," Shepard conceded. "If he'd been acting alone, I would have. You know I think killing should be a last resort. I stand by that. But it wasn't just him. I'm sure Nash sent him to rope me into getting Weisman out. He was rep for the Reds. I can't have them twisting my arm, Garrus, and I can't have them trashing my reputation. I'm on shaky ground as it is with the Council. First human Spectre and they already don't really like me. I had to send a message. And Nash—it's the only thing he'd understand."

Garrus considered this. "I know what you mean," he said.

Shepard tapped her fingers on her glass. "That _life_ ," she mused. "I ran the _second_ I could. I've worked hard to get where I am, and nothing, _nothing_ 's going to jeopardize where I'm going." She cleared her throat, looked from Garrus to Tali and back again. "I'm glad we're good," she said. "That you know I didn't . . . that I'm not . . . I wanted to say thanks. You _aren't_ Alliance, either of you. You aren't with me because you have to be. You're with me because you believe in what we're doing, that together we can handle it. And that you believe that, even though you know who I am, where I've been . . . that means something. I appreciate it."

Tali laughed her bell-like laugh. "We're your crew, Shepard. Your friends. Is it that hard to say?"

Garrus's mandibles flared again, and his eyes sparkled. Shepard was learning to interpret turian facial expressions, or at least to interpret Garrus's. He was smiling too.

Shepard took a drink. She couldn't remember the last time she'd given a damn about what anyone but Anderson thought of her, and for the longest time she'd only cared about _him_ because she owed him so much. But the second she'd decided she'd need people for her mission, things had been changing for her. And now relief, gratitude, something that _did_ feel suspiciously like Tali's _friendship_ flooded through her, leaving her warm, happy, the first _reason_ to command she'd ever had in her life, but also scared as hell.

"Yeah. Harder than you know," Shepard muttered. "So. Before we go see about helping Emily again. Think the dextro's any good here? I mean, I wouldn't know, though I ate some on accident once, so I at least know I'm not the sort that has an allergic reaction . . . or is that the other way around?"


	4. First-Name Terms

IV

First-Name Terms

In a way, Joker reminded Beth of Theo, the insanely bright kid she'd known the last two years she lived at the Hardins'. Theo had probably been a genius, but he was a little . . . off. Had a learning disability or was on the autism spectrum or something. He could do amazing things with numbers and music, but people were difficult for him. But he'd taken to Beth. Stace and Meg hadn't come to Beth's graduation. Said they didn't want to be bored to tears. But Theo had gone. Little eleven-year-old kid sitting all the way in the back, absolutely hating the enormous crowd, stiff as a board. But he'd wanted to be there for Beth, fought past all that with this weird, stubborn bravery. He hadn't even talked to Beth afterwards. But he'd been there.

The annoying thing about Joker was that he was exactly as good of a pilot as he said he was, so when he crowed his brilliance to the skies, no one could ever contradict him, just hate him a little more. He was the best, but he didn't wear his laurels gracefully at all. He used his talent like a weapon against those that might say he was incompetent because of the Vrolik's Syndrome, hit everyone over the head with it. The ironic thing was, Shepard hadn't even known about the disease or thought he was any different from anyone else before he'd mentioned it. She would have never thought to question his competence before he mentioned that despite his disease he could perform his duties better than anyone else, and would never have _wanted_ to question his competence if he hadn't waxed on about his talent and pissed her off.

She didn't question him, though, because he was right. Even if she wanted to reprimand him, she couldn't really do so just because he was annoying when his piloting was perfection and everything was in line in the cockpit. Anyway, because of Theo, she did know how to recognize talent that just didn't work well with people. And it wasn't like Joker was going out in the field. By and large, he didn't have to play nice with others.

As obnoxious as he could be, though, he was slightly less obnoxious with Shepard, especially since she _hadn't_ questioned his ability to perform his duties when he told her about his disease. He seemed to like chattering at her when she went up to the cockpit on rounds, and ever since she'd told him she didn't like taking the _Normandy_ from Anderson, every now and then he'd make a clumsy effort to remind her that the crew was behind her. Ask her what her orders were, assure her he was right on the pick-up, or congratulate her on a successful mission just as he congratulated himself yet again on his amazing piloting. It was kind of sweet. As far as Joker could _be_ sweet anyway.

One day she asked him about the nickname.

He scowled, and Shepard knew she'd hit another sore spot. "It's a lot shorter than saying 'Alliance Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau,'" he said. "Plus, I love to make little children laugh." He bared his teeth in a humorless grin.

"Really, now."

"Look, I didn't pick the name. One of the instructors in flight school used to bug me about never smiling. She started calling me Joker, and it stuck."

"Why didn't you smile?" Shepard asked him.

"Hey, I worked my ass off in flight school, Commander. The world's not going to hand you anything if you go around grinning like an idiot. By the end of the year, I was the best pilot in the Academy, even better than the instructors, and everybody knew it. They'd all got their asses kicked by the sickly kid with the creaky little legs. One guess who was smiling at graduation." He wasn't smiling now, though, Shepard noticed.

"Why do you still use the nickname, if you didn't ask for it? Do you even like it? I mean, that was years ago."

"I haven't been able to ditch it."

"That's not an answer."

Under his hat, Joker looked angry. He was retreating into his box, but Shepard decided not to let him. She leaned against the wall of the cockpit. "My first name's Beth," she told him. "Did you know that? They never say it on the vids. Even when I use it to introduce myself, I'm pretty sure people forget it in three days tops. It's 'Commander' this, and 'Shepard' that, left and right. All so military, you know? And that's fine. I'm a damn good soldier. I earned my rank, and Shepard _is_ my surname. But I don't think I've heard someone say my actual first name in years."

It wasn't actually true. Her one-night partners, on lonely nights of shore leave, said 'Beth,' not 'Shepard,' but they didn't mean her when they said it, because they didn't know her. She didn't let them. Finch, too, had said 'Beth,' but he'd meant it as an insult. It was true that Beth hadn't heard her first name spoken by a friend in years.

Joker considered this. "Beth, huh?" he asked, rolling the name around in his mouth. "It's . . . nice. Pretty. It suits you." He looked up at her, made a face. "That's weird."

"That a pretty name could suit Commander Shepard?" Beth laughed.

Joker shook his head, incredulous that she would find his confusion amusing. "Well, yeah! I mean, you'd think 'Jane,' or 'Ellen,' or . . . I don't know. Something more like a badass N7, but it's _Beth_ , and it's _you._ It's _weird_."

"Well, I was Beth long before I became a badass N7."

"Beth," he repeated, still somewhat surprised. He shot her a glance. "That's okay?"

"Just here," Beth told him. "Over the comm, in front of the crew, it's still Commander, or ma'am. Gotta be professional. But sometimes? It's good to hear your name, Jeff."

Jeff Moreau bent his head to the instruments panel, so it was hard to see that under his hat, he'd smiled.

* * *

 **A/N: Because I'm not military, but I imagine that it would get really impersonal being called by your last name all the time. And Joker really seems to hate his nickname in** _ **Mass Effect**_ **, and EDI later calls him by his first name before they ever think about getting involved, so I didn't want my Shepard to keep calling him Joker like she doesn't know better.**

 **Leave a review if you've got something to say,**

 **LMS**


	5. Orphaned

V

Orphaned

The lab was cold, and the edge of the door frame dug into Shepard's shoulder as she leaned against it. There was a chair beside the table where Liara sat, but she felt wrong taking it. She stared at her feet. "Maybe I should've sent you back, when we found out Benezia was there. But I just thought it'd be worse, if you were here, and things went south, and I came back, and you knew I'd killed your mother." She hesitated. "I hoped that if you were there, things might _not_ go south. I'm sorry."

Liara shook her head. "You did not kill Benezia. You killed a woman under Saren's control. I do not think my mother has been alive for some time now. Not _my_ mother. Not the woman I knew. But . . . you are right. If I had not been there, I might not have seen that."

Liara wrapped her arms around her body, trying to hold herself together. A tear dripped off the end of her nose. She looked exactly like the child she claimed she was, even though she was decades older than Shepard. She looked like one of the children from the homes Beth had grown up in, a new one, just taken from her parents. Beth couldn't help herself, she walked forward and sat in the chair, even though she still felt like she'd murdered Liara's mother and made her help.

"Liara, I—" she broke off. "I don't know what to say."

"There is nothing that can be said, at times like this," Liara said sadly. "It is enough, that you are here. Thank you."

"What was she like?" Beth asked. "Benezia. Before, when she was just your mother. When you were little."

"I remember thinking she was the most elegant, beautiful woman in the world," Liara said. "She always kept fresh flowers in the house, and she loved the color yellow. She got me my first history book. She supported me, loved me. It was a happy childhood. Until she entered the Matriarch stage." Her face fell. "I do not know if you are aware, but asari . . . change, in the different life cycles. What is important to us shifts, and so do our responsibilities. As a matron, an asari focuses on her family. Nothing is more important. As a matriarch, she becomes responsible for advising and supporting our entire culture. When my mother became Matriarch Benezia, she became responsible for more than just me. She had new duties, and there was no time for me anymore. I had not spoken with my mother in years before Noveria."

"It is strange," she observed, "How our parents stay with us, even decades after we've left them. What was your mother like, Shepard?"

Beth shrugged. "Not the mothering type. I never knew her. She didn't ever tell me who my dad was, either," she said, attempting to joke the bitterness away. It didn't work. Liara's mouth had fallen slightly open in shock. "She left me at the clinic the day I was born. Didn't even give me my name. The nurse in attendance did that, when they came around for the paperwork."

"I . . . I am so sorry," Liara said. "I had no idea. She must have had a good rea—I'm sure that . . ." she stopped. "Now I do not know what to say," she confessed. "What is appropriate? I wish—"

"Liara. Relax," Shepard said. "It's an old wound. I've made my peace with who I am and what I'll never know. It doesn't hurt anymore. But I'd love to hear more about your mother, if you want to tell me. I'm always curious to know about other people's families. I love talking to Ash about it. She has such a great one."

Liara's tearstained face grew thoughtful. "I believe you make your own family, Commander," she mused. "Like you have made your own name. Commander Shepard is no longer a name a nurse gave you when your mother would not. You have written it into history. No one will ever forget it. And these people you gather around you, every person aboard this ship, they are loyal to you. We are your friends."

Shepard dropped her gaze and laced her fingers together, uncomfortable. "That's what Tali says. I'm not sure I like it. I've lost friends before. In a way, I think I was lucky growing up. I don't have anyone to miss back home."

"No," Liara said with confidence, "It is better to have friends, to have a family—of whatever kind—than it is to be alone. We live in community. Our names and histories are written in the memories of those close to us. Benezia—my mother is gone, but because I remember her, some part of her remains, as you yourself just said, Commander. Before I joined you, I was alone, but now that I am here, some part of me exists in you, and in all of the _Normandy_ 's crew. And some part of you exists in us . . . in me."

Liara's cheeks darkened to violet. Again Beth was reminded of the children in the different homes she'd lived in growing up. Sometimes, the younger ones, lost and afraid, had sort of . . . attached to Beth. Like Theo or Caitlin, in the last couple years. They'd seen Beth as a safe place, the only person in the harsh, loud world that had taken the time to give a damn and be decent. And sometimes, if they'd been a little older, they'd confused that feeling, that gratitude and admiration, with other feelings.

Liara didn't know much about humans. She'd been isolated, a solitary academic-type concerned more with Prothean ruins and artifacts than she'd been with the living for at least a decade, maybe as many as five. Shepard had saved Liara from a bad situation, and Shepard had pretty much been the only one to trust her word that she wasn't involved with Saren and Benezia when she'd said so. Now here Liara was again, feeling vulnerable and sad and lost, and here Shepard was, confusing her.

It was wrong, especially when Shepard by no means intended for the asari to care for her in any romantic way. She'd have to address the issue soon. Liara's fascination with her had been becoming unmanageable even before Noveria. Now was perhaps the worst time Shepard could tell Liara that she was barking up the wrong tree, but Shepard realized she also shouldn't stick around and encourage Liara if she wasn't going to let her down right now just after her mother had died.

She stood. "Is that what the asari philosophies say? Maybe they're right. I hope so. It's nice to think that the people we care about stay with us. I could've used that once. Might want to use it in the future. But at least it can help you now."

"Only a little," Liara confessed. "I miss her. I miss what she was. And even if I am not alone now, I feel alone," she said. She shook a little. One, two, three more tears fell from her eyes, threatening to become a flood.

Beth paused. Something in her twisted at the asari's words, a part of her she kept buried, ignored, did her best to forget even existed. For years as a child she'd been neglected, ostracized, bullied for the crime of not having parents. With the Reds she'd always had to hide part of who she was to stay safe, to save any chance she had of getting off the streets, and though Stace Paxton had known her plans, she'd kept up the charade with Stace almost all the time, too, as a courtesy to her friend that wouldn't have the same opportunities. Once, she'd let herself fall in love, but when she'd been offered a promotion, she had decided that her career meant more than her relationship, only to lose any chance of changing her mind when he'd died at Akuze. Since, there hadn't been anyone, not even Anderson, the only one she'd admit had been something of a friend before she took command of the _Normandy_. There hadn't been anyone she'd let in, anyone she'd had to share herself with, to be herself with.

She sat again. "Me, too," she whispered. "I've . . . almost always felt alone."

Voiced, however, it suddenly became just another bad hand, another stupid fight where the odds had been stacked against her from the beginning, and Shepard reacted the same way she'd reacted to every bad hand she'd been dealt from Vancover to Akuze: with defiance.

"Liara," Shepard said, "We are _not_ alone, okay? It feels that way, but we're not. We're just not."

"Are you with me, Commander?" Liara didn't look at her as she waited for the answer.

Shepard closed her eyes. _Damn it,_ she thought. It was a direct question, and Shepard wasn't going to lie to the girl. "Not the way you want me to be," she answered finally. "But I'm another orphan, just like you. We're crewmates, on this mission together. That means something. So even though it _does_ scare the _hell_ out of me, I can be your friend." She looked at Liara. "Will that be okay? It's more than I thought I'd give anybody, ever again."

Liara smiled. She was sad, disappointed, but she seemed at peace, too, like she was at least glad to know where they stood. "I understand," she said. "It will be enough. Thank you, Commander."

* * *

 **TRAILER FOR** _ **FALL OF A MATRIARCH**_ **(2183), THE EIGHTH VID WITH A CHARACTER BASED ON COMMANDER BETH SHEPARD (PLAYED BY MELISSA SYPRESSE)**

Eastern-sounding strings over synthesizer play a romantic, melancholy melody. A beautiful, especially well-endowed asari in a black, silk robe looks out a vista window over the Presidium. In the luxury bedroom behind her, a young, human woman is lying in tousled, gold sheets and a black comforter. Her long, blonde hair falls over the most crucial bits as she rises.

 **COMMANDER LISA MEADOWS** _(Basically Shepard, except this vid is fictionalized enough that the company wanted to cover their butts)_ **: (softly) Come back to bed.**

 **MATRIARCH ZARA: I don't sleep these days.**

MEADOWS comes up to stand behind MATRIARCH ZARA. The projected dawn, set to symbolize the morning, shines on her pale, flawless skin and her trusting, gray eyes, fixed on her lover. She raises her hand, but doesn't quite dare to touch ZARA.

 **MEADOWS: Tell me what I can do to help.**

ZARA turns away from the Presidium. She cups MEADOWS's face in her hand, and MEADOWS leans into the caress, closing her eyes. ZARA kisses her forehead.

 **ZARA: Nobody can help me.**

Decisive chord plays. ZARA is standing in a council chamber on Thessia in a low-cut, pinstriped suit facing down a panel of asari matriarchs.

 **ZARA: We have become complacent. We live out our millennia, convinced the other races of the galaxy will die and die again before they have a chance to leave any lasting mark, before they uproot our influence. We have lost our ambition in our arrogance. We could do more than ride out the waves of strife that shake the stars, do more than serve as a bridge between races—and we must. If we do not regain the resolve we have lost, we will not chart this course.**

The panel does not look convinced. Close-up on a violet-tinged, hazel-eyed matriarch with a tiara-pattern over her brow.

 **MATRIARCH INNA SETHARA: Your fears are baseless, Matriarch Zara. Our influence is secure. Our people learn wisdom over time. By the time an asari reaches six hundred, she is wiser and stronger than any human or turian.**

 **ZARA: You delude yourself with the same lies that have led us into stagnation.**

ZARA alone in a Thessian garden at night.

 **ZARA: I will** _ **not**_ **see our people diminish.**

Camera pans over the glittering Thessian landscape. White words appear over it as it scrolls away.

 **From DEL RHEI PICTURES**

Music grows heroic, exciting. ZARA circles with a strong, tall, middle-aged turian, well-armed, with his share of battle scars on the sparse deck of a ship.

 **ZARA: I do not trust you, Spectre.**

 **SPECTRE THERON JUVENAL: (compellingly) But you need me. You want power, Matriarch. The power to bring the asari back from the edge of irrelevancy—**

 **ZARA: (passionately) The asari will never be irrelevant!**

 **THERON: Maybe not in your lifetime, as long as it is. But the day is coming. You know it. I know it. When it's your daughter's turn to advise the leaders of Thessia, what will she be doing? Planning millennial celebrations and garden parties?**

 **ZARA: And you would help me out of the kindness of your heart?**

ZARA steps to THERON. She seizes his head in her well-manicured hands.

 **ZARA: I can see into your mind. I can see your true intentions.**

THERON's mandibles flare. His eyes glitter.

 **THERON: Go ahead. I dare you.**

A familiar-looking ship flies through the mass relay, shaped like a giant black hand.

 **From the Director of BLUE TWILIGHT**

 **Starring ULA T'ROAKEL and VIDIAN MARCARAN**

 **With MELISSA SYPRESSE and AEVA P'THEENA**

A young, freckled asari girl walks over to a fountain on the Presidium. LISA MEADOWS sits on its lip, armed, in a white-and-blue jumpsuit ( _that hugs a gravity-defying frame without looking very protective_.)

 **DR. THALIA O'SIRON: I'm worried about my mother.**

 **MEADOWS: (turning to look at her) Me too.**

MEADOWS and ZARA, both wreathed in biotics, face each other down in a sterile laboratory. THALIA stands between them, looking anguished and conflicted.

 **MEADOWS: Don't do this.**

 **ZARA: I must.**

 **FALL OF A MATRIARCH**

 **18.6.2183**

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry I missed my Saturday update. The trailer was giving me trouble. That, and it's the holiday season, and life is happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 **Best Always,**

 **LMS**


	6. Got Your Six

VI

Got Your Six

They'd gone to the Kepler Verge for Garrus. He'd been an enormous help, and he wasn't getting paid for all he'd been doing. Shepard had thought the least she could do was help him track down an escaped criminal. Dr. Saleon had been dealt with, and they were about to leave the cluster and head toward Feros at last when the message came in from Hackett with Alliance command.

Shepard tapped her fingers on the rail at the galaxy map. Hackett kept sending missions her way. She'd encouraged it before, back when she and Anderson worked together. The two of them had flown all around the galaxy taking care of business for the Alliance, and it had been one of the only things that had kept her sane right after Akuze. Now she had a primary mission, though. An important one. Shepard was almost convinced that the fate of the galaxy might hinge on finding and stopping Saren and the geth before he found the Conduit and brought back the Reapers. Now the Alliance spec ops were unwanted distractions. The only problem was that even though she was a Spectre now, she hadn't resigned her commission with the Alliance. She did still answer to command.

But this time, Hackett didn't seem to want her to fly somewhere to some horrifically mountainous planet and drive around until she found some obscure outpost with a lot of crazy people that needed talking down or taking out. "I've received some information I thought you'd want to know about," he said, sounding grave, almost . . . concerned. Hackett was a cold fish if ever she'd known one, so Shepard was immediately on high alert. "Someone is killing former Alliance scientists. There have been four deaths in the past month."

"What's the situation, sir?" Shepard asked.

Hackett hesitated. "We found a connection between the former scientists and you," he admitted. "They all worked on a classified project several years ago. On Akuze."

And just like that she was Lieutenant Beth Shepard again, reeling from the loss of the 179, talking to the scientists again in 2177, hearing the screams in her head every minute of every hour of every day. Her blood ran like ice through her veins. "They told me after Akuze that it was funny that so many solitary thresher maws were there outside of their habitat. They said they'd look into it. Are you telling me that Alliance scientists may have been involved in the attack?" Shepard wanted to shoot something. She wanted to cry. She wanted to vomit. But it was like she'd been petrified.

"I can't get any information on what they were working on. It may have been something completely different," Hackett said. "I can tell you that if these scientists were behind what happened on Akuze, they operated without Alliance approval. Commander, what you do with this is up to you. I just thought you'd want to know. There was one other scientist working on the project, Dr. Wayne. I'm transmitting his last known coordinates to you. Good luck. Fifth Fleet out."

Beth stood there for a long time, staring at the coordinates for a point on Ontarom, in the Newton system, gripping the railing over the galaxy map so tight her hands went numb with the loss of circulation. Finally, voice shaking, she said, "Flight Lieutenant?"

"Commander?" came Joker's voice over the comm. Jeff had a very bad habit of eavesdropping on conversations around the ship. Beth knew from his voice he'd been listening in on the transmission from Hackett, and he was worried.

"Set a course for Ontarom."

"You got it. Commander, will you—"

"Just set the course."

* * *

Shepard moved on autopilot. She selected the ground team without much thought. They hit the ground in the Mako. "Commander? Are you alright?" Kaidan asked, as she stepped down hard on the gas. "You look—" he didn't finish.

"What's happened, Shepard?" Garrus asked.

Shepard blinked. She hadn't realized she'd called Garrus out for the ground team again. Ordinarily she rotated squad members. The rest of the squad didn't have her spec ops training; they couldn't be expected to cope with the same workload and stress levels. She must have just called the two names that came out of her mouth first. "There's a scientist here," she said. "Or there might be. Someone's been killing people like him. Hackett said the scientists . . . they all worked on a classified project five years back. Well. Maybe. Maybe they went rogue. Anyway, the project . . . it was on Akuze."

Kaidan hissed in a breath. "You going to be alright on this one, Shepard?"

"Akuze," Garrus said. "That's where—"

"That's where a nest of freaking thresher maws killed my entire unit. Yeah." Beth laughed. It was a mirthless sound, with a slight edge of hysteria. She didn't care. "I don't know if I'll be alright, Kaidan. Depends on what we find. If it turns out this scientist, this Dr. Wayne, was involved in what happened there . . . I don't know what I'll do." It was a lie. She knew exactly what she'd do.

Beth pressed the pedal even further toward the floor. The Mako rocketed off a hill and came down hard. Kaidan grabbed the oh-shit handle, wincing at the jolt. "Careful!"

"This is nothing," Beth said. "This is the plains compared to the usual backwaters Hackett sends us to. Don't be such a baby."

"Maybe I wouldn't if you didn't drive like a maniac!"

"You're not the one that's going to have to fix what she does to the undercarriage and the engine," Garrus told Kaidan. Out the display, he saw the Mako barreling toward the edge of a small cliff. "Shepard, watch it!"

Shepard ignored her squad and drove right off the edge. It really was tiny compared to some of the others. She hit the thrusters, though, to try to minimize the impact. It didn't work. Instead, the thrusters shot them sideways, and the Mako bounced off its right side before landing on its wheels again. Garrus hit his head on the ceiling and swore. Beth kept driving, eying the blip on the map that was the base where she presumed Dr. Wayne was staying. "Isn't far now," she said.

"Shepard—" Kaidan started.

Garrus interrupted. "We're behind you," he said, with a glance at Kaidan. "Whatever happens."

Kaidan looked back at Garrus, then to Shepard, and didn't say anything.

* * *

Whoever'd been hunting down the scientists had gotten to Wayne first, with a gang of mercs, and the mercs weren't happy at Shepard's intrusion. Normally there would've been wisecracks through the base from her team. Garrus might've patched his visor's playlist through to the squad's radio. Kaidan would complain about the distraction. Shepard would complain about Kaidan's complaints, and about Vakarian's choices in music, and everyone would accuse everyone else of showboating and hogging all the best hero moments—not without some basis in fact. This time, there was complete silence from the squad.

Shepard could feel Alenko and Vakarian just waiting for her to lose it, and it pissed her off, all the more because she had a feeling they were right. If she'd been Hackett, she might not have passed on the intel about the scientists and the mercs after them. If Anderson had still run the ship, she knew he wouldn't have let her go groundside on this mission without supervision. She was compromised. And that pissed her off too. So Shepard gunned down the mercs shooting at her, one after the other, all the while uncertain she wasn't actually on their side. Not that they gave her much opportunity to explain herself. Not that she wanted to explain herself, even if they had. The mercs were between her and the truth, and Shepard was determined to get to the truth about what had happened to the colony and the 179 at Akuze.

She still wasn't prepared for what was waiting for her.

Wayne was in the back of his outpost, and the merc leader was there. "Stay back!" he yelled at Shepard, training his pistol on Wayne, a small, ferrety looking man in a lab coat. Unlike the others, he didn't seem interested in shooting her. "I've got no grief with you! All I want is this bastard!"

"Please!" Wayne shouted. "He's a madman! Mr. Toombs, you're insane! You need help!"

The merc cocked his pistol. "Shut up!" he cried. "You don't get to lie! You don't—" suddenly, he turned, looked more closely at Shepard. "Shepard? My God, Shepard? Is that you?"

Beth gaped. The man in front of her was only twenty-seven years old, but he looked forty, at least. His face was lined and scarred, and he was taut all over, like a rubber band ready to snap. Far, far from the officious, young corporal she'd known years back. But it was him. It was Toombs. "Corporal Toombs!" she breathed. "How . . . I . . . you died! You all died! How are you here?"

"They took me, Shepard!" Toombs said, waving his pistol at Wayne. "The scientists!"

"You can't prove any of this!" Wayne snarled. "This man is delusional!"

"See, they were running tests on the thresher maws," Toombs told Beth. "They let those things hit us, just to see what would happen! I woke up in a holding cell. The scientists were delighted I'd survived. Now they had someone to run tests on. They're part of some organization, Cerberus, that runs secret tests like this. They treated me like a lab animal."

"Cerberus," Garrus said sharply. "Like the ones that killed Admiral Kohoku and his men. They had all those sick labs in the Hades Gamma cluster."

Beth hardly heard him, but she could see the labs now. The insane rachni—torn from their mother, husks, and other abominations she had no names for yet. She could see Toombs running through labyrinths filled with those things, stuffed into glass tubes full of viscous liquid and stuck all through with plastic tubes and sterilized needles. While all the while he was living that hell on Akuze over and over and over again. Did he even know they'd done it again?

She was shaking, sweating. "No, I . . . I looked," Beth stammered. "I called, over the radio. I screamed for anyone that could to follow me. And they didn't . . . they couldn't . . . everyone went silent. But I went back with more men to look, the next day, and no one had made it. There weren't any survivors. Toombs, if I'd known, if I'd seen you, I would have saved you, I _swear_."

"You can't believe Toombs!" Dr. Wayne snapped. "He doesn't have any proof!" Beth drew her own pistol and trained it on the bastard. It was in his eyes, in his panic. Every word Toombs said was gospel truth, and Wayne was terrified.

Kaidan could see it, too. His mouth was tight, one hand was near his pistol, and his hair crackled with biotics. Whatever he'd felt when they'd set out, now that he was here, now he was looking at Toombs and heard his story, he was ready to follow through on whatever she decided to do to Wayne. "Commander Shepard was there! She knows the truth."

Toombs scented victory. "This man deserves to die, Shepard. For you, for me, for everyone else in the 179! Are you with me?" Toombs looked at Shepard, and his finger twitched on the trigger, inviting her to shoot the man responsible for what had happened that night and since with him.

Blood pounded in Shepard's ears. She looked at Wayne, but she was seeing Sean's dismembered arm in front of her, Wright crushed against the ground vehicle. She was holding Granger as he bled out before the shuttle could arrive. The weasel's black eyes were bright with fear and anger. His nervous white fingers twitched as he looked from her to Toombs. His clean hands belied all the blood that was on them. Not just the 179. The entire colony on Akuze. Shepard had never hated anyone so much in all her life.

Beth's finger tightened on the trigger of her pistol.

Behind her, Kaidan watched Wayne with an expression of disgust. But Garrus kept his eyes fixed on Beth. The force of his gaze pierced through the noise pounding in her skull. She lowered her pistol slowly, and it seemed to weigh a thousand kilograms. "No," she said. Making the word pass her lips was like trying to move a planet. "No. We don't do this, Corporal. We're better than this. We have to be."

"Don't tell me who _I_ am!" Toombs cried. "You got away with a few scratches and a scary reputation. The rest of the unit died, and I was tortured for years, Shepard! You can't judge me! You don't have the right!"

Toombs's accusations burned like thresher maw acid, but Beth clenched her jaw and stuck to it, and her words came easier now. "Do you want them running your life?" she demanded. "It doesn't mean a damn thing that you got out if you let what they did to you dictate your actions now. I'm sorry for what you've been through, Toombs. I'm sorry I couldn't help you then. Help yourself now, and _let it go_. You can't control what they did. You can only control how you respond." She jerked her head at Wayne. "Don't carry this piece of _shit_ with you."

Toombs stared at Wayne. His breath was labored. Beth knew his gun had to weigh a thousand kilograms, too. Probably more. But finally, he lowered his as well. "Okay," he said. "I'm no murderer." Almost certainly a lie, Beth thought. Four other scientists were dead. But she hadn't seen him kill them, couldn't have helped then, so as far as she was concerned, it had never happened. She'd failed Toombs at Akuze. She'd do everything in her power to protect him now. "They can't make me one. Just as long as he goes to trial. Maybe the screaming will stop now. I don't know."

It echoed in Beth's head even now. "No," she murmured. "It won't. But you don't have to let it define you. You can keep going."

Kaidan had moved forward. He took the pistol from Toombs with gentle fingers.

Beth turned, brought up her radio to call Joker. But Dr. Wayne had been looking around wildly. "Oh, no you don't," he muttered. "I'm not going to jail." He took a scalpel from his pocket, ran toward Beth before she could make the call. Beth hadn't been expecting it. She turned, tried to raise her gun, but she knew she wouldn't have time. Then Garrus was there.

He hit Dr. Wayne with the butt of his assault rifle, and the man fell to the floor, insensate. Toombs gave an angry cry and lunged at Kaidan to reclaim his gun, to kill the man that would have killed Shepard, but in another half a second, Garrus had taken him out, too.

Shepard stood on the spot, momentarily speechless, flooded with adrenaline. She pressed the button on her radio, still staring at Garrus. The C-Sec officer held her gaze. "Flight Lieutenant. Call the Fifth Fleet," Beth said at last. "We need a ship for pick-up."

* * *

"I guess I owe you one,"

Garrus was under the Mako. He rolled out when he heard Shepard. "I guess so." Silence stretched between them for a minute, and then he gestured at the tank. "You can pay me back by helping to clean up your mess. You started out in engineering, right? You've got the skill. Prove it. It's really only fair."

Beth crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, but couldn't stop a slow grin from stealing across her face. It'd been too long since she'd gotten her hands dirty. She rolled up her sleeves. "You want to see my skills, Vakarian? Alright. Move it."

Garrus shifted obligingly, and Shepard lay down and got to work beside him.

"I would have shot him," Garrus remarked presently, wrenching a bent stabilizer back into place. "I would have shot Saleon. And he'd just hurt my pride."

"He'd hurt a lot of people," Beth answered. "Saleon deserved to die. But not for your pride, and not without a trial. It was the same for Wayne."

"It was a completely different situation," Garrus argued. "Saleon broke the law. But I wanted to kill him because he got away. Wayne was one of the ones responsible for the deaths of your entire unit on Akuze. He'd tortured Toombs for years. I can't imagine what it was like for you, standing there, facing that. I'd have understood if you killed him. I expected you to kill him." He sounded troubled.

Beth reached for Garrus's tools nearby, and grabbed some wires to replace some broken ones. "I thought I would," she admitted. "I wanted to kill him. I went in there planning to kill him, if it turned out to be true that Wayne had been one of the ones responsible for the maws being there. With Toombs there, hearing what they'd done to him—God, I never even liked Toombs, but he was one of _ours_. And no one, _no one_ deserves what they put him through. I almost killed that bastard. But then I saw you."

Garrus twisted a coupling so violently it broke. Sparks showered down on his armor. He rushed to repair it. Shepard left off her wiring, and turned her head to look at him. "I believe what I told you," she continued. "You can't control the shit morons, cowards, and evil people do. All you can do is control your response. And taking bad out of the galaxy's fine, but putting something good in is better. If I shot Wayne, or let Toombs shoot him, I'd be letting his actions control mine. And maybe Wayne would die, and that would be fine, but I'd be diving straight back into the dark, and what good would that do the galaxy? And you were watching. What would it do to you?"

"I'd've killed him," Garrus repeated. There was a snarl beneath his two-toned voice "That bastard would've killed you, Shepard, and you saved his life."

"And you saved mine."

"He deserved to die. But what you say goes for me, Shepard. I said I was behind you."

"You're always watching everything, looking out for me in case something goes bad," Beth said. "Don't think I haven't noticed. This isn't the first time you've saved my ass. Just the most noticeable."

Garrus finished repairing the coupling, and brought up his omni-tool to start recalibrating the Mako. "I've got your six, Shepard," he said after a moment. "Someone's got to make sure you stick around long enough to take Saren down."

"We'll get him," Shepard promised. "You and me, Vakarian. We got this."

"I know. You're the best I've ever seen, Shepard," Garrus told her. "I want to thank you, for taking me with you. For everything, really." He paused. "It doesn't make sense," he said then. "Hell if I understand it, but I'm glad you didn't kill the son of a bitch."

Beth let the conversation die into comfortable silence. She understood. Garrus needed her to live up to everything she'd told him. He needed her to be Commander Beth Shepard. And today, because he'd needed that, and because of who he was, she'd been able to be. He was _the_ most versatile, the smartest, fastest man on her squad. He worked well with anyone, saw every centimeter of every battlefield, and Kaidan came close, but Garrus was the only one that followed Shepard every time, tactically speaking. By this time she was completely unsurprised that the turians had considered him for Spectre training: Garrus was Spectre material. He was damn good in a fight and had more fire, more potential than Shepard had seen in an age. One day, she thought, he might live up to it, and if she had something to do with that, if she helped him get there, that'd be something good to put back in the galaxy, alright. Garrus deserved her best. So for him, she could be happy she hadn't killed Wayne too.

And maybe a little for her, too, that she'd found a reason to be her best. Not just something to fight against, but something to fight for; not just someone to watch her back, but someone she _knew_ was watching and would keep her sharp. Maybe next mission she wouldn't worry too much about who was supposed to be up in the rotation. What mattered was getting the job done to the best of their ability, after all. It wasn't like the other people on the squad couldn't handle it, but . . . she was just _better_ with Vakarian on her six. Plain fact. Ontarom had proved it.

Shepard pulled out a blowtorch to start welding the Mako's hull back into place, and Garrus pulled on the helmet he was paranoid enough to keep by his station at all times, and yelled at Ashley across the hold to toss over Shepard's. The time Shepard had scheduled for rounds had been over for a while now. They were both technically off-duty and on their own time. But Shepard couldn't really think of anywhere else she'd rather be.

* * *

 **A/N: So I'm sticking to my guns. This particular story in the series is romance free. Bromance (so to speak)? Not so much. You really can't avoid it with Garrus. He sort of clicks on another level with any Shepard: female, male, Paragon, or Renegade, and honestly, however it plays out, I love their relationship.**

 **Best,**

 **LMS**


	7. Mixed Signals

VII

Mixed Signals

Rounds, and Kaidan was itching to say something. "Do you have some time to talk now, Commander?" he asked.

Off-duty, Kaidan tended to hang in the mess. Shepard shrugged and motioned to the nearby table. She sat, and he sat opposite her. "What's on your mind, Kaidan?"

He hesitated, as if unsure now that it came to the point exactly how he wanted to phrase it. "We've played it pretty close to the books so far," he began finally, "but we're a long way from backup. We've got some tough calls to make. I'm just saying, try to leave yourself a way out. I've seen what cutting corners can do, and I'd hate that to happen to you, Shepard." He broke off, looked awkward. "Commander," he amended.

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Shepard's fine. I call you Kaidan, don't I? Don't sweat it. What are you trying to say? Are you worried I'll throw the book out going after Saren?"

"As a Spectre, the Council will support you in whatever measures you deem necessary to take Saren down, and so will I," Kaidan said, "But I just think a cautious approach couldn't hurt."

"I am the soul of discretion," Shepard intoned with mock solemnity.

He laughed at himself then. "Yeah, okay. Like I said, we haven't done anything too risky, yet. I don't think the Council liked it when you crashed that ruin on Therum, or blew up Peak 15, but—"

Shepard waved him off with a shrug. "Okay, so we _haven't_ been exactly subtle. It wasn't like circumstances left us much of a choice either time. But listen, Kaidan. I won't risk lives needlessly, and I won't destroy anything or _anyone_ that doesn't badly need destroying. Rules exist for a reason. I will follow them up and until they are squarely _barring_ me from doing my job, and then and _only_ then will I use Spectre authority to override them. Alright? We good?"

"I'm not trying to question any of your decisions, Commander," Kaidan insisted. "I trust you. I just think we should be careful."

"Okay, Kaidan. Talk to me. Where's this come from?"

Kaidan shifted in his chair. "You know the records about the biotic training out on Jump Zero?" he asked at last. "They're all classified, because the Alliance made mistakes. After first contact, Conatix was set up to track Element Zero exposures and develop implants for humans. Once we had an embassy on the Citadel, Conatix could bring in experts, instead of taking it slow."

"You'd think they'd want to study biotics independently," Shepard remarked. "I did some work with biotics paperwork for a few months back in '78. They work differently in every species, right? I mean, the different biologies react differently to eezo exposure. Was there some reason they didn't want to figure it out on their own?"

"They didn't know where to start. Hell, it took a couple of years to even link biotics and eezo," Kaidan said, spreading his hands. "Forget trying to get the kids to move stuff, they had trouble just helping them not break their own limbs. And their choice of teachers didn't help much."

"Aliens right after first exposure. Be the only experts they could find, back then."

Kaidan nodded. "Dead on. Turians, actually. That's why Conatix kept it a secret. They were afraid of what people back home would think, asking the turians for help when we'd just fought a war with them."

Shepard frowned. "Why didn't they ask the asari? They're better known for their biotics, anyway. Turian biotics are rare, and they don't really trust them when they manifest. Asari are practically all biotic, and they would've been a hell of a lot more acceptable to the people back home."

"Yes, but the company didn't go through the Citadel. It would have made Earth look weak. So they discreetly hired some turian mercenaries."

"Stupid," Beth muttered. "God, we wave our arms around and demand a louder voice in galactic politics, but we're the ones shutting out interspecies cooperation and alliances at every turn. Don't give a freaking inch and make our friends with the outlaws. So. Who'd they bring in?"

"They brought in an ex-military turian named Commander Vernus. To introduce himself he liked to say, 'I was at the helm of the dreadnaught that killed your father.'" Kaidan put on a gruff impersonation of a turian with sharp bitterness. "Well, I told him my father wasn't in the war. He'd retired to Vancouver. My family had an inland home that matured to new beachfront."

Shepard held up a hand. "Wait. Stop and rewind. You're from Vancouver. No kidding?"

Kaidan blinked. "Yeah. New Point. Why?"

Shepard laughed aloud. "God. You rich son of a bitch! Still, out here, I guess we're neighbors. I spent my entire childhood in East Side."

" _East_ Side?"

"Yeah. Born at South Sixteenth and never lived more than five kilometers away until I enlisted."

"That's a rough part of town."

"You're telling me. Not that _you'd_ know anything about that," Shepard teased, poking Kaidan playfully. "Still. Can't believe I never knew before."

"Me, neither," Kaidan said, half-pleased, half-concerned, it seemed, to find Shepard had spent her childhood on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak, in a place he'd _know_ was bad. He started to open his mouth to remark on it, but Shepard suddenly decided she didn't want to hear it. She'd made it out, and it was Kaidan's turn for a sob story, not hers.

"Anyway, you were telling me about Vernus the jerkass. Tried to piss you off and you told him it failed, did you? That was . . . smart."

Kaidan made a face. "Yeah, he had it in for me after that. He cut corners, pushed hard. I mean, you either came out a superman or a wreck." He looked down at the table. "A lot of kids snapped. A few died." He stopped, continued. "The point of all this, I guess, is that when you cut corners, it's not always obvious who pays for it."

Shepard studied the lieutenant's face. "Why are you telling me all this?" she asked. "I've told you that we're playing it by the book until the book doesn't cut it, and even when that happens, I've got ethics. You've said you trust me. So what is this?"

Kaidan shook his head. "I don't know," he said, frustrated. "I guess, I've just learned that if someone is special to you, you help them, try to keep them from making mistakes."

Shepard stilled. She liked Kaidan. She really did. He was consistently reliable, even if he wasn't the heaviest hitter she had available to her. He had a good head on his shoulders, kept cool in a crisis. She could trust his insights, and he knew the ins and outs of the Alliance. And to tell the truth, he was incredibly good looking, with his sculpted features, caramel complexion, and warm, brown eyes. Things were easy with Kaidan, and she was coming to depend on him as a sort of second-in-command, even though Pressly was the official XO. If he meant she was special to him as an officer, a friend, there wasn't much of a problem. But she didn't think he did.

"Kaidan . . ."

"If I'm out of line, just say the word," he said. "I'm just going off of some signals I've been picking up." He watched her, waiting.

Shepard looked down at the table, drummed her fingers. Had she been sending signals? She listened to him, sure. They talked. Sometimes joked around. But she did that with Jeff and Ashley. Garrus, too, more and more. The only problem was she wasn't interested in Jeff, Ashley, or Garrus. If things were different, if Kaidan Alenko wasn't under her command, on her squad, and they weren't on an extremely dangerous mission—in that parallel universe, she might have been very interested in starting something with him. But Kaidan _was_ under her command and on her squad, and they _were_ on an extremely dangerous mission. And Beth Shepard knew all too well how any mission at all could turn deadly, devastating, in an instant.

"I'll take your advice, senior officer to commander and friend to friend," she said slowly. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, and I appreciate any insight you have to offer. And I do enjoy your company, and the view is pretty damn nice, don't get me wrong—"

"But there are regs," Kaidan finished, disappointed. "I understand."

"It's one rule I _won't_ break," Shepard said. "Ever."

A little bit of a white lie, Shepard thought regretfully, looking Kaidan over as she gave him up. It was true she _hadn't_ broken frat regs—not since Sean, instead finding her stress relief with men based out of Arcturus station, or men she met in bars on lonely nights of shore leave. But she wasn't actually averse to having a little fun onship, so long as she was absolutely sure it wouldn't turn into anything real, that the guy could compartmentalize. She would have liked to get to know Alenko's body. But Kaidan just screamed 'serious relationship,' and he'd shown in this conversation and others they'd had in the past that he already had difficulties compartmentalizing. They wanted different things, and Beth wasn't about to use Kaidan when she knew right now things would only get messy between them if she did. _Never again_ , she'd said. She would _never_ get emotionally involved with a man on her ship again, but Kaidan didn't screw around. All anyone had to do was look at him to tell. Which was great. He'd be a lot happier and more fulfilled in the end. But not with her. And that was all he needed to know. He didn't need to know the rest.

"Probably smart," Kaidan conceded. "I know things can get ugly in the field when you bring relationships into it. Hell, I was the one telling you not to cut corners just now. I guess I can consider myself friend-zoned."

"That okay?" Shepard asked him, hoping very much that it was. She _did_ like Kaidan.

"I'm a big boy, Shepard. I can take it. Friends." He held his hand out, and they shook on it. Shepard felt an odd sense of loss as she did so, but she felt safe, too. Free. And she didn't want to change her mind suddenly and tell Kaidan anything different.


	8. Half Joke, Half Wish

VIII

Half Joke, Half Wish

Shepard grit her teeth and looked determinedly at the corner of the ceiling as Doc Chakwas plied her needle with the degradable stitching, so the medi-gel would heal her wounds without a scar. "I mean, really," Doc Chakwas scolded. "Not that it wasn't heroic, and all that, but did you really have to get in such close quarters to armed hostiles? Two knife wounds, one gunshot, and some shrapnel off a grenade. You should be dead, Commander."

"Don't make it sound worse than it was!" Shepard argued. "My shields kept off the worst of the impact. And it wasn't like I didn't have medi-gel with me," She hissed as Chakwas poked a particularly bad spot. "Honestly, getting battered by the creepers and Shiala's biotics was worse than the fight with the colonists. I'll be as blue as _she_ is tomorrow. Well, she wasn't blue at the time. She was green. And it wasn't really Shiala, it was the thorian clones of her. Long story. Doesn't matter. I'll be fine, Doc. I've got you."

"I still say you could have been more careful. Do you enjoy giving me extra work?"

"I ran out of gas grenades," Shepard protested. "I couldn't just kill them! They weren't themselves!"

Chakwas continued to look unimpressed. But as she took up the tweezers to pick out the shrapnel from Shepard's calf, her hands were gentle. It didn't keep Shepard from swearing.

"It's your own fault. I offered you local anesthetic," Chakwas reprimanded her.

"Waste of supplies," Shepard grit out. "It's nothing. Save it for when someone gets really hurt."

"Then save your swearing, if you don't mind."

"Yes, _Mom_ ," Shepard snapped.

But instead of being offended, Doc Chakwas's pale cheeks turned faintly pink, and the corners of her mouth turned up. "That's one job I wouldn't want. It's stressful enough being your doctor. I can't imagine being your mother."

"Yeah, well, neither could she." Shepard said lightly. She bit back another swear as Chakwas picked out more shrapnel, and began on the stitching. "Do you have any kids, Doc?" she asked. "Any family? Come on. You're poking holes in me. The least you can do is tell me a story."

"I am _fixing_ the holes in you," Chakwas corrected. "No, no family. Not anymore. My parents are gone on to their rest, and I never could seem to settle down enough to start a new one. By the time I fell out of love enough with my boys in blue and their piercing eyes to start looking for something real, it was too late for me." She laughed a little. "Still, I've no regrets, Commander. I have friends. I have my work. And it's good work, and good friends, too."

"Boys in blue, huh? Was there ever one in particular?" Shepard asked, as Chakwas started sewing on the last wound on her forearm.

Chakwas chuckled. "His name was Hunter Gregory," she answered. "He was navigation officer on a ship I served on, oh, twenty years ago now. He had the kindest eyes in the world, and he made me laugh. But when he asked, I wasn't ready. I was too passionate about my work. And then he never asked again. He died in a pirate raid three years later."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. As I said, I've no regrets. I've loved, and lost, and worked, and every day I make sure young idiots like you live another day to save the galaxy. It's a good life." Doc Chakwas tied off the last stitch, and putting aside her instruments for sterilization, went to wash her hands before applying the medi-gel. "And what about you, Commander? Are there any unwritten stories in your past?"

Shepard kicked her feet against the edge of the medical table. "I guess everyone has a few," she shrugged. "My life could've taken a lot of different turns. Sometimes I got lucky and avoided the train wrecks. Other times, not so much."

Chakwas paused over the medi-gel configuration and gave Shepard a small, wry smile. "That's a very poetic way to tell me nothing at all, Commander. Come on, out with it. It's your turn. Was there ever one of the boys in blue for you? Someone else, maybe?" She walked over and started spreading the medi-gel over Shepard's wounds. The cool, sticky substance tingled on contact with Shepard's skin, then started to itch as it began repairing the skin.

"Doctor's confidentiality?" Shepard smiled. "Once." She looked down at the floor. "It wouldn't have worked, anyway. I was being reassigned. We agreed it was over, but I . . . I never had the chance to change my mind."

"What happened?" Chakwas asked.

"Same as your Hunter Gregory. He died. I didn't."

"And since, there hasn't been anyone . . . ?"

"I can't bring myself to, somehow," Beth explained. "I can't see a way around someone getting hurt. It's not like there haven't been chances." Her eyes strayed toward the blinded window. Out in the mess, she knew Kaidan would be watching the med-bay door, waiting for her to come out alright. He hadn't said anything since she'd told him nothing would happen between them, but she knew he still watched her, hadn't got over it quite yet. Doc Chakwas followed her gaze, and smiled with sad understanding. She liked the lieutenant, Beth knew. She'd want him to be happy, would be worried that he wasn't.

"Either way, it's a bad deal for somebody," Beth murmured, almost to herself now. "I'm an N7. A Spectre. My career, the mission, will always come first, and any day could be my last. It's not fair to ask anyone to live through that hell, and I won't put myself through it with another combatant, either. Regs exist for a damn good reason. Things get messy when you throw 'em out, and even worse when the shit inevitably hits the fan somewhere." She sighed. "You learn to take comfort and stress relief where you find it, and stop looking for anything else."

Doc Chakwas went back to the sink, and wet a rag. The medi-gel had done its work. Gently, Doc Chakwas wiped off the residue. The stitches had dissolved. There was no trace of Shepard's former wounds. "I suppose," she said. "Is it enough for you, though, Commander?"

Beth looked her right in the eye. "Is it for you? Really, Doc. Is it?"

Doc Chakwas handed Shepard her clothes and didn't answer.

"Yeah. That's what I thought," Shepard said. She thrust first one arm, then the other, into her uniform shirt, and pulled it over her head, wincing a little. Her skin was unbroken now, but her body still remembered the wounds it had taken in the last twenty-four hours, and wouldn't let her forget about them for a while yet. "It's better now than it was," she admitted. "After Akuze, for a long time there wasn't anyone. Forget romance, I didn't let anyone in at all. I mean, there was Anderson, but only 'cause I couldn't shake him. Now, all of you are helping me stop Saren, and things have changed somehow."

Doc Chakwas leaned against the counter, considering. "You've changed since we first began serving together," she agreed. "Before, you did your job, better than anyone on the ship—though I'm sure Joker would disagree—but you seemed . . ." she searched for the word. "Lost," she decided. "Now, it's like you've come awake, somehow. Started looking around you. You may have begun looking for Saren, but you're finding more than you bargained for, I think."

"Maybe, maybe not," Shepard said. She finished tucking her pants into her boots, and brushed off her front.

"There. Good as new," said the doc.

Beth moved to pin her hair back up, but the doctor moved behind her. "Here. Sit down. Let me," she said. She finger-combed Beth's hair back from her forehead and began to plait and pin sections up. "You have beautiful hair, Commander. It's unusual for a military woman to keep it so long."

Beth chuckled. "My one vanity," she said. "I used to hate it. Wanted to be brunette, to match the rest of me. Even tried to dye it once. I think I might have been six or seven years old. Of course it came out awful, and I never tried again. Later, I decided it was the best thing I have going for me, looks-wise. I'm too sharp. Too bony. And God knows I don't have much of a body. So I keep my hair long. It's stupid, but it makes me feel better."

"You don't have to be pretty, Commander," Chakwas said firmly. "You're one of the most powerful women in Alliance military history. You're intelligent, able, and respected." She finished pinning up the last section of Beth's hair. In the mirror, Beth saw it was in one of the complicated styles she usually kept it in. The doctor paid attention. "But even so, Commander," she added, coming back around to the front. "You are an attractive woman. You have an . . . intensity about you that one doesn't often see. Your own special something. It comes from who you are and works its way out. We're very proud of you here on the _Normandy_."

She helped Shepard to her feet and straightened her shirt front. "But stay out of my damn med bay," she said, firmly. "Stay safe, Commander. The galaxy needs you."

"Yes, _Mom_ ," Beth grumbled again, half joke, half wish. Because she needed one, and Chakwas needed to hear it. Again the doc turned slightly pink. She picked up a datapad and brandished it at Shepard, faux-chasing her out the med bay. But as Shepard retreated, hands up, Chakwas smiled at her, and Beth smiled back.


	9. A CO's Responsibility

IX

A CO's Responsibility

Tali stood, flailing her arms around, stammering thanks and apologies. Garrus knelt beside Shepard, pulling up a medi-gel application. Shepard grimaced as the stuff went to work on the gunshot wound.

"Forget it, Tali," she said from between grit teeth. "Just watch your damn flank next time while you're charging the line with that shotgun. I know your people have a thing with the geth, but just be careful."

"You . . . you saved my life. Again."

"Yeah. Shut up and get the data from the console."

"Right away, Shepard," Tali said, rushing to obey.

"I shouldn't have brought her out here," Shepard muttered to Garrus. "I don't care if it is a three-century old grudge or how good she is with an omni-tool and an engine, that kid should not be in the middle of a firefight."

Garrus looked over at Tali, then spoke lowly and quickly, so only Shepard could hear. "You can't protect her forever, Shepard. She'll have to leave eventually, and if you don't use this time to help her while you can, the next time Tali's in a fight she can't handle, it's on you."

Shepard tried to sit before the medi-gel had quite finished its work. She winced, managed it. "The CO's responsible for the development and fitness of the foot soldier. If she gets promoted before she's ready, the CO takes the heat, too. That's the idea, isn't it?" she paraphrased. "That's what the Hierarchy says."

"Whether or not the Alliance believes that—"

"They do," Shepard interrupted. "To some extent. The idea isn't often executed in law, but it's out there, Garrus."

"Tali has potential. You're underusing her, and you aren't developing it. When she leaves us, the quarians won't keep her off of dangerous missions. She's too good of a combat engineer."

"Yeah, they need to use every resource they've got," Shepard said. She remembered a conversation she'd had with Kaidan several weeks ago. He'd noticed she mostly kept Tali employed down in engineering with Adams, too, where she was useful, but out of any direct fire. Shepard had admitted that as far as she was concerned, Tali was a civilian and a kid and she didn't know why the hell the quarians let their children go off alone into the galaxy like they did. She'd allowed Tali to come along because she might have useful intel on the geth later on, but mostly because she couldn't stand leaving the kid on her own like that, especially with Saren and the Shadow Broker after her. Even as an Alliance warship, the _Normandy_ was safer for Tali than _that_. She'd taken Liara on for similar reasons, but Liara had at least had a hundred years to develop her biotic abilities.

Kaidan, and later, Tali herself, had told her a little more about the quarian people and the way things were in the Migrant Fleet. Shepard still didn't like it. She watched Tali at the console and kept her voice low. "They won't care that she can't shoot worth a damn or analyze a combat situation. They need her tech skills."

"You could help her," Garrus told her. "If you don't, though, it might get _both_ of you killed. This was too damn close, Shepard."

"You're very sweet," Shepard said, with some sarcasm. She sighed. "And you are also right. Dammit. When did you start calling me on this shit?"

"What?" Tali asked, returning. "Are you going to be okay, Shepard? Is there enough medi-gel?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to be fine, Tali. Protocol still means I have to go see the doc when we get back to the _Normandy_ , though. When she gets a hold of me, I may not be so fine anymore."

Garrus helped her to her feet.

"What was on the console?" Shepard asked Tali.

"Data files, mostly," Tali reported. "Defense programs, schematics, networking information. I'll need to sort through it . . . but Shepard, this could tell us so much about how the geth have evolved and developed over the years. It could help my people understand how the geth have changed, maybe how to beat them. Shepard, this information could be priceless to the flotilla. It could be the key to helping us reclaim our homeworld! If I brought it back . . ."

"It would be exactly the kind of Pilgrimage gift your people expect of you," Shepard said. She brought up her omni-tool. Reluctantly, Tali transferred the files over. "Let's get back to the _Normandy_ ," Shepard said. "Alliance Command will want to hear the incursions have been stopped."

* * *

Several hours later, Beth found Tali in engineering. "Come with me," she said. She handed Tali her favorite shotgun. Tali took it, her posture expressing eloquently the confusion her face couldn't, but followed Shepard anyway.

Jeff put them all down on a rock world someplace. Standard habitable planet gravity and atmosphere was all Shepard had asked, and it'd only taken him a couple systems to find it. Wrex helped Garrus set up the targets, bragging about how he could've taken out the last outpost much better, expressing satisfaction that he was finally going to get to shoot something, as if Shepard hadn't just run him on the other outposts yesterday.

Ash checked all the guns, making sure they were all in top condition. Her guns were always pristine and in the best working order, but they were that way because she was so freaking anal about it, so Shepard didn't stop her.

Liara was comparing pistols with Kaidan, discussing caliber and weight and firing rates, and implementation of biotics alongside weaponry. They didn't often get to work together because Shepard rarely wanted such a biotically heavy team on the ground. She liked things a little more balanced.

"What's this about, Shepard?" Tali asked.

"Training," Shepard said. "Benezia was on Noveria, geth attacked Feros, but Virmire is the first place where we know for sure Saren's been spotted. We have to go in at the top of our game. Unless you want to bail on us."

"Bail on . . ."

Shepard hit some buttons on her omni-tool. "Had to clear it with command, first," she explained, "But I was able to convince them that the quarians have a right to this intel as much as we do. The copy's yours. You've got what you wanted. You can go back to the Migrant Fleet if you want."

Tali scrolled through the data on her omni-tool. "Shepard . . . I can't . . . I can't thank you enough," she exclaimed, stunned. "This is the best Pilgrimage gift anyone has come back with for . . . for decades, at least. This could really change things for my people."

"Well?" Shepard asked, waiting. Half of her wanted Tali out of the coming chaos. Half of her wanted her to say she'd stick around. She'd miss the kid in engineering and around the ship. And Garrus was right. She couldn't protect Tali once she'd returned to the flotilla, and the quarians wouldn't give a damn about her safety if they could use her. They proved that much sending their kids out alone in the first place, without so much as a team and the safety of numbers, whatever Kaidan or even Tali herself said.

Tali shut off her omni-tool. "My people need this," she said. "But you need me, too. My people . . . I . . . owe you a great debt, Shepard. One I can never repay. The only thing I can offer you in return is what you already have, my solemn promise to stay with you until Saren and his geth armies are defeated."

"Alright, then," Shepard said, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed. "Then take up arms, soldier. We'll need all hands on deck on Virmire. Tali, I've kept you out of the heavy fighting. You're a first-rate engineer and your help to Adams and with the _Normandy_ has been invaluable. But to be honest, your combat skills need work. So let's get to work."

Shepard nodded to Ash, and Ash came forward. Of the squad, only she and Wrex routinely used Tali's preferred weapon in combat, and for some reason, Shepard thought Ash would be the gentler teacher. "Alright, Tali," Ashley said. "You've got some experience handling a shotgun, but your execution could be better. Here. Show me your grip."

Kaidan and Liara started competing at a target. Wrex started shooting at the native birdlife, grumbling that stationary targets were boring, and he was hungry. Garrus knelt down the line at a different target with his sniper rifle and fired off a shot at the farthest target, out five hundred meters. Shepard brought up her own rifle to look through the scope. Perfect bulls-eye.

* * *

 **A/N: Tali as an unprepared civilian (for all her father is an admiral) in _Mass Effect_ at least is something that isn't overtly stated but I think there's ample evidence for—again in _Mass Effect 2_. She always has soldiers to protect her and is treated more like a scientist or researcher, heading up expeditions, but in need of defense. To me, it makes more sense that Shepard would have taken her on as a form of witness protection and only later been grateful for her engineering expertise when Adams pointed out how good she is.**

 **As ever, leave a review if you've got something to say,**

 **LMS**


	10. In Between Storms

X

In Between Storms

The grief was a hard lump in her throat, choking her words, blocking her air, and every centimeter of her felt as heavy as lead. Her eyes burned because she hadn't slept since Virmire, and hadn't been able to let herself cry yet. The anger was a cold stone in her stomach, but mostly, Shepard was just tired. Really tired, tired to her very bones. Tired in her soul.

For all that, she thought Anderson had it worse right now. Across his shiny new desk, he rubbed his eyes. His knuckles were still bruised from punching out Udina. So was Udina's face. As they sat there in silence, five, seven, twenty new messages popped up red on the console interface. Anderson jabbed his thick, soldier's finger at the dismiss button once, twice, hit it on the third time.

Shepard had sat across a desk from Anderson too many times to count, but this time was different. The silence stretched between them like a living thing, and the guilt twisted in Beth's stomach harder every second she looked at the captain's face. It had been three days since she'd recommended him for the new Council position, and already his eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed. He looked harried . . . overwhelmed. She'd put him in a job too big for him, because he'd at least try to do it right, while that rat-bastard Udina had already shown he'd call white black to increase his own standing. _It's just politics, Commander._ God, she hoped he'd gone down _hard_ when Anderson had punched him out. But she already wondered if she'd done the right thing, choosing Anderson, if it was really better putting a soldier in a diplomat's job when they both knew he'd make a crappy councilor. There hadn't been a right choice she could make.

"Dammit," Shepard swore aloud, unable to take the silence anymore. "What the hell was I supposed to say, Anderson? Right there, right then, it was you or Udina. Those were the known quantities, and if I didn't say something right then, we'd have ended up with a complete unknown, and who knows what they'd think about the Council or the Reapers? But I know you, and I know Udina. You'll at least try to do the right thing. With him, it's all power and image. I—I'm sorry."

Anderson tried to force a smile. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Shepard," he said, trying to make her feel better, damn him. "This isn't the way I thought my career would go, but I'm willing to do my part for humanity." The façade cracked then, just a little. He sighed. "I don't have a lot of experience in politics, but I'll do my best."

The headache she'd had since Virmire throbbed, and she rubbed her temples. "I know. Just try . . ."her voice cracked, and she hated herself for slipping, hated letting Anderson see just how done she was. God, she was literally _shaking_ with exhaustion, but she was trying to come down off the stims so she could get some natural sleep before she shipped out again tomorrow. "Don't give way," she told Anderson, finding her voice again. "They're going to try to make this go away, Anderson. Don't let them. Sovereign was just the beginning. You can't let them forget. I can trust you?"

Anderson looked out his window, over the dying flames. "We don't have much," he said. "The wreckage is already being stripped and salvaged. You burned up the Prothean VI and its data stopping Sovereign—"

Shepard slammed both hands down on the desk. "I know!" It came out a shout, and Shepard sighed, forcing herself to relax. She was only angry because he was right. "Sorry," she muttered. She wouldn't meet Anderson's eyes. She could tell: he _pitied_ her. That was the last thing she needed. They were both in over their heads here.

"I'll do what I can, Shepard," Anderson promised her. "They can't ignore what's happened here. I'll fight it. We have to be ready when the Reapers return."

"We will be. I'll see to that."

"You may not be able to now," Anderson warned her. "There's no getting out of this geth assignment. I'll work against it, but as long as the rest of the Council is in favor, my hands are tied. That's the downside of democratic politics. Majority rules. It's not like the military, where if we have sufficient cause we can just go in, to hell with the bureaucrats. As a Spectre, you still answer to the Council."

"The minute I get off the Citadel they'll do everything they can to change my story."

Anderson hadn't anticipated this angle. He frowned. "They won't be able to touch you, Shepard. You're a hero. You saved the Council. You saved the Citadel. There'll be novels, vids. More than there are already. You're invincible."

"Maybe, for a while," Shepard conceded. "But I also broke the law, went against orders when I left, and only I and my crew were witness to what Saren became in the end. To all that Sovereign was. Two gaping holes in my rep right there, just waiting for exploitation. Savior or not, they'll use it, if it means they don't have to panic the populace and prepare for a war they can't see coming with their own eyes."

"What the hell just happened, if not a war?" Anderson's fists clenched and unclenched on the desk. Another fifteen messages had popped up on his terminal, and the alert light was flashing with ruthless impatience. He groaned. "Dammit, I need a drink."

Shepard could relate. "Saren," she told him. "That's how they'll try to sell it. Saren and the geth, and nothing else. Kinda funny, when you think about it. The last thing they wanted was to admit he was a traitor. Now, they love that they can use him as a scapegoat. Stop it. Don't let it happen."

"I won't. All the people on the Citadel, the soldiers in the battle, they deserve that much."

"So does Ash," Shepard murmured. "I thought she'd make it through anything."

Anderson peered at her. "You're different, Shepard. Time was, I wondered if I'd ever see you get close to another soldier."

Shepard shrugged this off. "Yeah, well, that was then. A lot's happened this year."

"But it's more than that," Anderson persisted. "There's a moment in the careers of a lot of soldiers where they sort of . . . wake up. You see them push themselves past the limits of everything they ever thought they could do, find a reason to fight, and become more than they ever thought they could be. I used to wonder what your moment would be. All those years we worked together, and there was something missing."

Shepard started to protest, hurt, but Anderson cut her off. "Don't get me wrong, you did your duty. You worked hard, and you've always had more natural talent than I've ever seen in a soldier, but you weren't all you could be. I knew it, and I think you knew it, too." At this, Shepard had nothing to say. "It's part of the reason I recommended you for the N7 program, and then the Spectres. I thought it might wake you up. When it didn't, I thought maybe that part of yourself was something you'd lost at Akuze, or maybe before that, back on Earth."

Shepard shifted in her seat. "I—I never—" she trailed off. "I did the best I could for you, sir . . . then," she managed at last, because there was really nothing more to be said. He was right, though it was a little sad that it had taken nothing less than an imminent Reaper invasion to really bring her back to herself again. Or not _back_ to herself, really, but to whoever she was now, because she'd never been Commander Beth Shepard, first human Spectre, before.

Anderson smiled at her, but his smile was sad, too. "I know you did, Commander," he said. "Now I wonder why I ever wanted to see the fight that would wake _you_ up. Not that it isn't something to see. But Reapers. Figures humanity would only get a seat on the Council at a start of a war that'll be bigger than the Rachni Wars and Krogan Rebellions combined."

"Think we're up for it?" Beth asked him.

"We'll figure something out, Shepard. You and me. Me in this damn job. You in the _Normandy._ We'll work things out, and we'll be ready. Somehow." Anderson said. "You haven't let me down yet."

Funny how they all thought that would help. _We trust you, Shepard. We believe in you._ Calling her the hero of the entire freaking Citadel, like half of it hadn't burned before she'd got through the Conduit. The higher they built her up, the further there was to fall. Shepard grimaced but let it pass. "And you haven't let me down, sir," she replied. "I guess we'll just see." She stood, and shook Anderson's hand across the desk.

"Go back to the ship and get some sleep, Shepard," he told her. "I'll be in touch."

Shepard rolled her shoulders. "I haven't slept in a long time, sir. Not sure I'll be able to sleep tonight. But I'll try."

* * *

Parts of the Citadel were still burning as Shepard made her way back to the docks. The smell of burnt flesh was still circulating through the ventilation systems. Over the Presidium, the dying fires cast an eerie red-orange light across the stars. Shepard heard turians on clean-up crews shouting at one another from the ward arms, clearing wreckage from Sovereign, and from the twenty-eight human and turian cruisers that had been lost in the battle. Frantic civilians rushed through the streets, shoving pictures of missing loved ones under everyone's noses. They were still digging bodies out of the wards, and many had been burned or blown beyond recognition.

But some of the vendors were up again, and Shepard stopped by one of these on the way and bought a bottle of turian brandy, a jug of ryncol, and a few bottles of straight-up Earth Canadian whiskey. Liara had hopped a transport back to asari space three days ago, the day after she'd heard about Shepard's new assignment and told her which way the wind was blowing. Tali had left last night. But Wrex and Garrus were still aboard the _Normandy_ , until she shipped out tomorrow morning with only her Alliance crew. And Anderson was right: they all needed a damn drink.

It was damned decent of Liara to try to push their case with the asari matriarchs, but Shepard really didn't think the disgraced Benezia's crazy, young daughter would have much luck convincing the galaxy's consummate diplomats that they ought to prepare for war against the Reapers when Saren was still conveniently around to blame for what had happened, and they'd burned their only hard evidence of a greater threat. The line Liara said the Council would take would probably originate with the salarians, but the asari would give it its shape.

As for Tali, Shepard really didn't blame her. Ash's death had hit the sheltered quarian particularly hard. Despite Ash's mild xenophobia, Tali had always been an exception for her. The two had formed a close friendship, and Tali had been grieving badly when she'd left. She wasn't a soldier, not really. She was just a kid that had got pulled into all this by mistake. She'd fulfilled her promise and completed her Pilgrimage. The geth data would make her every bit the hero the quarians were expecting Admiral Rael'Zorah's daughter to be upon her return. Shepard couldn't expect more from her. The galaxy certainly hadn't done the quarians any favors. Shepard could only hope that she'd bought Tali a few years to grow up before the Reapers returned and that what she'd been able to teach Tali in the last couple weeks would do her some good if the flotilla sent her out again.

But God, Shepard missed them both. She hated the whole thing, the squad breaking up to go their separate ways. She didn't begrudge any of her squad their lives. She approved of Wrex going back to Tuchanka to finally do what he could for his people. She'd encouraged Garrus to return to C-Sec, at least for a while. But the thing was, the _Normandy_ had been practically the only place in the galaxy there had been real intergalactic cooperation working, no politics, no games. The galaxy would need that kind of cooperation to defeat the Reapers. However good their individual excuses, some part of Shepard still felt that splitting the crew up now was a bad idea.

As Shepard boarded the _Normandy_ , the silence that meant a costly battle had been fought echoed through the ship. It was almost deafening. Everyone was going about their duties a little more slowly. A few of the crew members had had family, friends, or lovers on the cruisers that had fought Sovereign above the Citadel. She'd heard the phone calls, the low voices, seen the grief and shock and guilt on their faces as they tried not to look at her when she walked past, because they didn't want to blame her, didn't want her to think what if she'd pressed harder, what if she'd been faster. She was thinking all that already.

Shepard ignored the salutes and took the stairs and the elevator down to the hold. The post by the lockers was empty, and everyone down in the hold was deliberately not looking at the place where the gunnery chief should be maintaining the guns and running inventory, but wasn't.

Shepard went straight to Ash's locker. No one had touched Williams's stuff since Virmire. Before they left port in the morning, Shepard would have to send her effects to her family, with the letter she'd written the day after Virmire but hadn't been able to make herself send. Beth knew Ashley's family from her stories. Even knew Sarah Williams's voice, from the message she'd overheard that one time. It had been echoing in her head for days. She could imagine how it would sound when they got the package and the letter. Shepard loved the Williamses, like she loved every decent family everywhere for simply being a decent family. The patient, faithful military widow, the brave, quirky sisters—Shepard didn't want to break their hearts. But to leave them wondering, not knowing, would be worse. She'd have to send it. But she figured Ash could part with one thing first. They never had celebrated Armistice Day together.

She had the whiskey for later, but it felt right to start with Ash's hard cider. The bottle was contraband on-deck, anyway. Shepard hadn't confiscated it when Ash had first mentioned she had it only because she'd never once seen Williams out of order in any way. If she drank a glass or two responsibly, off-duty, well, she was a good soldier that had been through hell on Eden Prime and run ragged since. Shepard figured Williams deserved a drink now and then.

It was in one of her boots, padded with socks. Clean, fortunately. Ash hadn't ever been a slob. The model gunnery chief. Shepard railed in her head again at brass for not promoting Williams. She should've been an operations chief, at least.

Shepard pulled out the bottle, shut the locker, and tossed the bag with the rest of the liquor on the floor. The glass clinked, but didn't break. Wrex and Garrus watched her. Shepard jerked her chin at the bag. "Something to celebrate our last night together, boys."

Slowly, Garrus went up to the bag and opened it. He pulled out the turian brandy, paused when he saw the ryncol, and handed the heavy jug to Wrex.

"Now you're talking, Shepard," Wrex said, popping the cork and drinking straight from the jug.

"No. No talking. Just drink."

Before too long, people came down to join them. Chakwas first, followed by Adams, Pressly, and a few of the rest of the crew. Kaidan was the last. He stayed in the corner, his face stubbly and shadowed with the survivor's guilt. Shepard guessed he hadn't slept since Virmire either. She tried not to look at him. She'd made the right call that day. Not only was Alenko the senior officer, he'd been with the bomb. If the geth had disarmed it somehow, the entire mission, all those men Kirrahe had already lost, would've been for nothing. But every time Shepard looked at Kaidan she saw Ash. She knew it'd ease up in a few months, but until then, both of them carried their burdens.

It was nothing like a party and everyone knew it. Ash had only been the first of so many people to die fighting Sovereign. Not even the first. There'd been dozens on Eden Prime, too, on Feros, and on Virmire before they'd lost her. There were the military casualties lost in the space battle, and the civilian casualties, lost before Shepard had arrived on the scene, and after, when Sovereign had blown apart. They numbered in the thousands. No, this was a wake, and the crew treated it like a wake, trickling out when they felt they'd paid their respects.

Shepard stayed, and kept drinking. The world mercifully began to blur after a while, taking everything out of cruel focus. Finally, only Kaidan, Wrex, and Garrus were left. "To Ash," Shepard said at last. For days she'd been unable to say Williams's name in front of these people. She'd needed the alcohol, needed the time. They all downed another shot.

"She never was a fan of aliens," Garrus remarked. "But the cargo hold feels . . . wrong. Empty without her."

"Be empty without you two, now," Kaidan said.

Wrex grunted, and blearily, Shepard focused on her hulking friend. She'd been close to losing him on Virmire too, close to having to shoot him for the sake of the mission. She'd been so glad when he'd seen reason. She thought it was why he was going back to Tuchanka now, because of what she'd said then. The krogan had let others define them for too long. Wrex had ideas about what they should be, and it was time he acted on them. But she knew it'd be an uphill battle all the way for him, and partially because of what she'd done.

"To you, too, you old brawler," she said unsteadily. "Said I was glad I didn't kill you on Virmire. Never said I was sorry, too. I am. Sorry. The genophage. 'S'not fair. Not right. Someday, if I can . . . I'll do something. Don't know what. Just . . . something. I will." Even through the alcoholic haze, Shepard meant the promise.

But Wrex laughed. "You're drunk, Shepard."

"'M'not so drunk I won't remember. I'll remember. I'll do something."

Wrex regarded her out of red eyes yet undimmed by the drink. "Someday we'll see, I guess," he said. He stood then, and clapped Shepard on the back. She staggered forward a couple steps from the force of the blow. Sometimes Wrex didn't know his own strength. "Think I'll head out now," he said. "Been fun, Shepard. Kaidan. Garrus. You're alright, for a turian. I'll see you around."

"He wasn't too formal when he joined up, either," Kaidan observed. "It fits, somehow." He considered the alcohol in his glass. "You're drunk, Commander," he said echoing Wrex. "And if I down this round, I will be too. Alcohol and sleep meds don't mix, even with a biotic metabolism. And we've got duty tomorrow. I'll get aspirin from Chakwas for you in the morning. Garrus? Let me know before you head out."

"Will do."

Carefully, Kaidan set down his glass. He stood, and walked away. He paused in the elevator, and looked back at Garrus again. "Take care of her," he instructed just before the door shut on him.

Garrus jerked his head, a human mannerism he'd picked up.

Shepard scowled. "Don't need taking care of," she muttered. "'m fine. 'M fine." She slid down against the Mako, nursing her glass. They'd almost totaled it in the Ilos Run through the Conduit, but the crew had retrieved it from the Presidium after the battle, and in the last few days, Garrus and Tali had restored it almost completely.

"Sure you are," Garrus said, sitting next to her and prying the glass from the fingers that weren't fast enough to resist him just now. Into her other hand he placed something long and thin.

Shepard turned her head. She looked at it for a while before she realized what it was. It was a stick of jerky. She blinked.

"It's levo," Garrus told her. "At least, I think so. I can't remember. Even if it's not, you don't have an allergy."

"Won't do any good, though, if it's dextro," Shepard said.

"Yeah, but it couldn't hurt. And here. Drink this."

He pressed a canteen of water into her other hand. Shepard glared at him. "'m fine," she insisted. "What if I want to get piss-drunk and vomit myself into a coma, huh? What then, Vakarian?"

But she screwed the top off the canteen anyway, drank, and peeled the wrapper off the jerky. She bit off some. It was levo. "Hate you," she mumbled around the mouthful.

"No, you don't."

"Think you're so damn smart."

"When the reporters come around I'll tell them you taught me everything I know."

He sat there and waited until the food and water and the antitoxin tech in the armor Shepard was still wearing had started recalibrating her internal chemistry to semi-normal levels. She hadn't been _that_ drunk.

Shepard looked over at the turian brandy. It was almost untouched. Garrus followed her gaze. "It doesn't really help, Shepard," he said. "To have fun, to unwind, that's one thing. But not when you drink it like this."

"No," she agreed. "But damn it if I wouldn't like to think it'd help, anyway. Damn you, too, for not letting me. You always are doing that. Keep me sharp." She was quiet for a moment. The haze of alcohol was still clouding her brain, just a little, and it gave her the courage she needed to do another bit of business she'd been putting off. She could just about cope with almost all the squad leaving the _Normandy_ for good. With Garrus it was different somehow. She brought up her omni-tool and selected a text file she'd written up a couple weeks ago and finished editing last night. "You're going back to C-Sec tomorrow, right?"

He hummed a confirmation. "There'll be a hell of a crime wave, after the battle. The riots have already started. C-Sec will need all the help it can get."

Shepard indicated the text file on her 'tool. "I've written commendations to Executor Pallin and the Citadel Council. My letter praises your work as a consult above and beyond your duties here. You saved my life and the lives of our companions on a number of occasions, and without your help, it's unlikely we would have been able to stop Saren as effectively or efficiently." She articulated the quotes as carefully as possible, endeavoring to recover a professional footing.

Garrus's eyes had widened, his mandibles had tightened in surprise. "Shepard, there's really no need—" he began.

Shepard cut off the turian honorable disclaimer in the bud. She wouldn't have it. As far as she was concerned, Garrus had earned his commendation and then some, and what's more, he knew it, too. "I already did, Vakarian, so don't bother," she told him. "I thank them for their generous allowance of leave for you to provide assistance on the mission. To Executor Pallin I recommend you for C-Sec recognition for your heroism in helping to save the Council and the Citadel." She swallowed, coming to the point now. "As you've also expressed interest in joining the Spectres, to the Council I've expressed my confidence in your excellence as a potential candidate for Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."

She watched him carefully, but while the addition of a recommendation to the Spectres had caught Garrus even more off guard, he didn't seem to get it yet. He was stuck on gratitude. "Shepard, you didn't have to—"

It was an honest expression this time, but Shepard still wouldn't have it. "Damn right, I did," she snapped. "Garrus. On this mission, you saved my ass. Many times. Helped me make the right calls more than once. You helped me take down Saren _and_ Sovereign, and no one knew going in we'd be facing a Reaper. I couldn't have done it without you."

At this, Garrus absolutely balked. He shook his head. "Sure you could," he said.

Shepard stared him down, and he stopped talking. "No," she told him simply. Then, to lighten the mood, she leaned over and jostled him with her shoulder. "At least, not the same," she allowed, with a weary smile. She looked away and wrapped her arms around her knees then, and was quiet for a moment. "Garrus Vakarian, it has been my honor and my _pleasure_ ," she murmured, meaning every word.

Garrus's eyes were still locked on her face. She doubted she'd ever get used to the intensity Garrus put behind his focus. Made him a one-in-a-billion shot when it was leveled down the barrel of his rifle, an amazing engineer when it was directed at the Mako or some bit of combat tech, but when he trained that laser focus on her, it was damned unsettling, though she also knew that focus was the very thing that had saved her ass and kept her accountable time and time again on this mission. It was stronger than ever now, though. It was like he was trying to look right into her brain. His mandibles tightened, then flared, then tightened again. "Shepard, the pleasure's been _mine_ ," he said, and there was something underneath his voice, too, that shook the floor beneath them and the Mako behind them and made Shepard's bones vibrate.

He reached over for her hand, and Shepard took it. They shook, and she thought maybe he held her hand a little longer than he needed to, like he didn't want to let go either. "Garrus, listen," Shepard told him. "About the Spectre training. If you do end up going that direction, if you make it—" she snorted. "If you go that direction, _when_ you make it—"

Garrus chuckled. "Appreciate the vote of confidence."

"Please. You're _almost_ as good as I am."

"Only almost?"

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Keep working at it, Vakarian. You'll get there. If you're lucky." Shepard cleared her throat, and continued. " _If_ you go that route, Garrus, I'd be happy to work with you again."

Garrus blinked, surprised again. "Shepard and Vakarian, Spectres, cruising the galaxy for trouble?" He sounded like he liked the idea.

Shepard honestly hadn't known how he'd take it. She relaxed a little. "You gotta admit: it has a nice sound," she said.

Garrus hummed. "It does, at that," he admitted. He looked sideways at her, though. "Sure you're in the market for a full-fledged partner?"

In the past, Shepard had confined herself to leading small ground fire teams. Before that, she'd fought in small ground fire teams under another CO. She hadn't ever tried fully cooperative ops, even as an N7. She hadn't ever wanted to try them. And although some Spectres did work in partnerships, most worked alone, and that was how they were chosen. Judging from Garrus's tone, he knew that. "Normally I wouldn't be," Shepard murmured. "Most of the time, manpower's more efficient under single leadership, or spread out to cover diverse objectives. An equal partnership's only a good call if each partner is better for working with the other." She stole a glance at him, but even tipsy she wasn't going to say any more than that. She'd die before she admitted she needed _anyone_ to watch her back. _Never again_.

"I—I'll keep that in mind," Garrus said. Still, the knowledge hung over the pair of them that _if_ he was accepted for Spectre training again, it could be a long time before he made Spectre. "They should keep you on the Citadel, too," Garrus said after a moment. "The center of information, where you can spread the word about the Reapers, make sure the galaxy knows what's coming. It's not right, sending you after the geth. Too many people have died. Too damn many. That Reaper's in pieces all over the Citadel, and sending you out after the geth . . . they're going to brush it all off and pin it on the geth, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they are," Shepard said, without pulling the punch. "The Reapers are terrifying. They don't know what the hell to do with the Reapers. They've exterminated every other advanced race in the history of ever. How do you prepare for that?"

"Not by sticking your head in the sand and pretending it isn't happening!" Garrus snapped, and Shepard, still a little lightheaded, looked over and remembered he'd been there for all of it, too, that this was happening to him too.

"There's no proof," she sighed. "Nothing solid. The data from Vigil was all we had, and it burnt out when we used it to beat Sovereign."

"You couldn't have done anything else," Garrus argued. "It was the only way."

"I know."

It suddenly occurred to Shepard how Garrus was likely to react to the way the politicians on the Citadel would probably spin things. God, it would be worse because the Hierarchy would bring the sentiment the salarians would frame and the asari would articulate. The turians' bitter, wounded pride would be all too eager to strike out against the human that had proved one of their best and brightest a traitor and had to save the Citadel from him. Garrus, the patriot that had staked everything on avenging the honor of the turian race, the hothead that set the pursuit of truth and the administration of justice above everything, the friend that had followed her to hell and back—Garrus would lose it, if she was right.

"Garrus," she said, and he looked up. "When the awe wears off and everybody's left with the clean-up and not a whole lot of ideas about what the hell happened with Saren? It'll get worse. I defied the Council, broke the Spectres' one rule, and I'm the only one pushing this damned inconvenient war with the invisible Reapers. If I'm right, the Council's planning a smear campaign in a couple of months, while I'm away chasing geth and can't defend myself."

Garrus started. "A smear campaign . . . ? Shepard, they can't. You're the hero of the Citadel. You saved all their lives. If they—"

Shepard interrupted. "It'll all be secondary to the panic of the people, the economic crisis, all the shit that goes on preparing for a war. Taking down my credibility is the best way to assure the people that they're safe, that there are no Reapers and will be no war. Better even than saying they're dealing with the geth threat by sending the hero of the Citadel after them."

Garrus's fists clenched. In the quiet of the hold, Shepard actually heard the strain as his jaw tightened. "Everything you've done, everything you've been through," he said, and his voice was a growl, stretched to breaking. "Shepard . . . they _can't._ "

Shepard resituated herself so she was sitting opposite Garrus, cross-legged, hands on both her knees. She stared up at him, willing him to understand. "Listen. _It doesn't matter_. _Only the Reapers matter_. While you're on the Citadel, you can help Anderson, help everyone. You can make sure they don't forget what happened, brush it all under the rug like that. Make noise. You're good at that. Forget about me. Focus on the big-ass Reaper that crashed into the Citadel. Try to get some tech, some proof."

Garrus sputtered, unable to believe she could be so blasé about the imminent destruction of her reputation. "It doesn't matter? Shepard—"

"You can't control what they do," Shepard reminded him.

Garrus gave in. "'You can only control your response,'" he responded, finishing the familiar mantra. He relaxed, though the metallic scent he gave off when particularly angry still filled the air between them.

"Control it," Shepard said. "For me. If you're damned set on returning to C-Sec for now, do some good there, okay? Don't lose your head. Whatever the Council does, _whatever they say about me_. When you have the choice, do the right thing. Even when it feels like hell. You owe it to yourself. Promise."

Garrus dropped her gaze then. "I'm not like you, Shepard."

"No. You're Garrus freaking Vakarian, epic badass, Reaper-slayer. You can do this."

Garrus smiled. "You may have helped with the Reaper. Just a little. I can't promise," he told her. "If they go after you, after everything we did. I need justice, and that won't be it. But I'll try."

"Good enough," Shepard said. She stood with a groan. "Well. As Kaidan and you were kind enough to remind me, you bastards, I do have duty tomorrow. You heading out now, or later?"

"I think I'll spend one last night on the old girl," Garrus said, remaining by the Mako. "My apartment's probably trashed anyway. Getting hit by an exploding Reaper probably was hell for the neighborhood property values."

Shepard smiled, tipped a little, ironic wave.

"Shepard. If I don't see you tomorrow—"

Beth cut him off. "You've got my 'tool address?" she asked him.

He tapped his wrist. "Yes."

"Then use it. I'll swing by next time on shore leave. I can kick your ass at the shooting range or something."

Back on familiar ground and away from serious, half-drunken conversations, Garrus stood with that showboat smirk he somehow pulled off without actually possessing lips. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But we both know I'm better."

Shepard scoffed. "You wish." She stepped into the elevator, and she knew that even if Garrus did stay the night on the _Normandy_ , he'd be gone before she left her quarters in the morning. They'd said all they needed to say for now. A goodbye would just be redundant, and after their conversation tonight, she was wondering if he'd hate it just as much as she did.

"Till then, Shepard?" he called after her. "Give 'em hell."

Shepard turned around, crossed her arms, sank her weight back on one hip, mustered all the energy and positivity she had left in her, and gave Garrus Vakarian _her_ best showboat smirk. "Always."

* * *

 **REVIEW OF** _ **SAREN**_ **, THE FOURTEENTH VID WITH A CHARACTER BASED ON COMMANDER BETH SHEPARD (PLAYED BY KENDALL JAMES)**

 _Saren_

Reviewed by Georgia Ellody, _Citadel Daily_

Commander Shepard seems to be the galaxy's new bright star. The Alliance maverick has been fascinating far more than her own kind long before she defied her orders and saved the Citadel in the recent geth attack, and even before she became the first human Spectre at the start of the year. Though Shepard, age 29, is known for her reticence and professionalism in the public eye, asari, turian, and human producers have all speculated about the real Commander Shepard in a succession of unofficial biovids. The latest, salarian-produced vid, _Saren_ , takes a different tack.

Starring a magnetic Rigel Kristokus as the villain protagonist, _Saren_ delves into the dark crimes of the rogue Spectre behind the geth attacks on Eden Prime, Feros, and the Citadel. Opposite Kristokus is promising, young, human actress Kendall James in her silver screen debut. James plays a Shepard heretofore unseen in cinema, an unyielding, dogged avenger determined to bring Arterius to justice at any cost.

With sweeping, brooding cinematography and top-notch special effects, _Saren_ is a visual wonder. However, usually meticulously researched—with note-perfect battle locations and tactics, the motivations of the titular character sag in places. Saren's now-confirmed fear and hatred of humans does not seem to provide sufficient cause for him to ally with hostile AI, especially to attack the Citadel, which houses ten members of other species to every one human. Kristokus portrays an intelligent, compelling Arterius charismatic enough to sway an asari matriarch and dupe Commander Shepard even after his death, not a madman likely to burn down the house everyone is living in.

With thoughtful, philosophical dialogue, and battle choreography so realistic audiences will half expect blood to spurt from the screen, _Saren_ is well worth a watch even with (and perhaps because of) its unanswered questions. Director Elon Linol has made a remarkable biovid and a fine conversation piece for those interested in recent news.

 _Saren_ is available over extranet from Hirom Studios and Widowscape Distribution and currently showing in theatres throughout Council space.

( _Note: Article is given in its original form, as it appeared 14.10.2183 at 12:00 AM. The article was removed from the site at 12:03 AM and replaced at 12:47 AM with several sentences from the third paragraph removed and revised to eliminate any reference to Arterius's unclear motivations in the vid._ )

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 **A/N: Yes, I know my Shepard actress has the same name as a football player. I did not know that when I named her that, not being a fan of football in general, and I like the name too much to change it. No insult to Mr. James's manliness was intended—Commander Shepard is a total badass, after all, and Ms. James, despite her appearance in the politicized** _ **Saren**_ **, is actually my favorite among the actresses I imagined to play the part. At the time, I think** _ **Saren**_ **might have actually been a sincere conceptualization of the events of ME, however the Council may have used it later.**

 **Anyway, this is it for** _ **Disaster Zone: Awakening.**_ **Henceforth updates to the Disaster Zone will be slowing down, alternating with my** _ **Mass Effect 2**_ **novelization. The Disaster Zone will update on Wednesdays, starting next Wednesday when** _ **Resurrection**_ **goes up.** _ **Sometimes Grace**_ **, which uses Beth Shepard but is written from the perspective of Garrus Vakarian, will begin posting next Saturday. I hope Disaster Zone fans will check out** _ **Sometimes Grace**_ **. The style is** _ **very**_ **different, but it's still Mass Effect, and covers my favorite game in the trilogy.**

 **Special thanks to seabo76, Katkiller -V, and TheXGrayXLady. Your support is an amazing encouragement.**

 **Happy New Year!**

 **LMSharp**


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